


Of Heat, Storms, and The Rough Outdoors

by xenadragon_xoxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camping, EWE, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenadragon_xoxo/pseuds/xenadragon_xoxo
Summary: Longing for a new start after Astoria’s passing, Draco decides to leave Britain with his son and start a new life in Malaysia. When the city-loving Draco reluctantly indulges the nature-loving Scorpius in a camping and wildlife adventure for his eighth birthday, he thinks it can hardly get worse - but then their trail guide turns out to be none other than Harry Potter.





	1. One Week Before

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** #S29  
>  **Warning(s):** Sexual content  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction and all locations, while they exist in real life, are used in a way that is fictional and do not represent real events or individuals.  
>  **Notes:** This fic uses some Malay language and terminology. Please skip to the end of the fic - or to the last chapter on AO3 - to view a glossary.

The rain outside was pouring down, hard, against the glass window panes of the building. Inside a small, tastefully decorated apartment in the suburbs of Kuala Lumpur, Draco Malfoy sat tapping away on his laptop, ignoring the clamouring noise of the heavy precipitation. It had taken him more than a year to become accustomed to the wonders of Muggle technology, much of which had involved him repeatedly poking things with his wand and demanding for secrets to be revealed, but now that he’d gotten the hang of it, he found these devices incredibly nifty. While he’d always appreciate the charm of an ink-dipped quill and some parchment, they didn’t offer quite the same convenience that a computer did. 

Adding a final sentence to the long passage he was writing, Draco leaned back in his chair, glancing around his study with a finite satisfaction. His freelance writing job paid him in British pounds, and with the conversion rates, it was a decent job that paid well enough for both him and his son to enjoy a comfortable lifestyle in most aspects. It was by no means a match for the luxury Draco had become accustomed to growing up, but it was more than enough, and Draco was grateful. His walls were full of bookshelves, each stuffed with a seemingly endless number of books, there was a lovely green rug spread across the middle of the room beneath a comfortable pair of armchairs and a coffee table, and his desk was spacious and allowed plenty of room for the occasional piling up of paper. 

Just then, the door to Draco’s study was violently shoved open and a small, overly excited blond boy with big grey eyes dashed into the room.

“Gentle with the door, please, Scorpius,” Draco reprimanded as the door fell shut loudly, its resulting noise temporarily overpowering the fall of the rain outside. 

Scorpius didn’t seem fazed by his minor scolding. “Sorry, Father,” he said. “Are you busy?”

Draco pushed his laptop a little to the side so he could see his son more clearly. “Never too busy for you,” he smiled.

Scorpius giggled, then got serious very quickly. “My birthday’s coming up!” he announced. 

“Yes it is,” Draco replied. 

“I’ll be eight!” Scorpius added.

“You will indeed.”

“That means I’m big now!” Scorpius exclaimed. “It’s nothing on your sixty-seven years, of course.”

Draco winced. “You’re off by… quite a few years there…"

Scorpius didn’t seem to hear him. “And I thought eight is a very big and important age -”

“You say that every year, son -”

“Well, yeah, but every year’s big and important!” Scorpius retorted. 

Draco laughed. “Alright, alright. What do you want for your birthday?”

Scorpius’ eyes went wide. “Oh! It didn’t take quite as much hinting this year.”

“You don’t need to hint for things, Scorpius. You can just ask.”

Scorpius nodded. His voice dropped to a bit of a whisper that almost couldn’t be heard over the pounding of the rain. “I always forget that.” 

Draco smiled gently. “You can always try to remember next time. So, what do you want?” 

“I’d ask for a party, but I don’t have any friends here,” Scorpius said thoughtfully. 

Although Scorpius didn’t carry any sadness in his voice about his lack of acquaintances, the fact still tugged at Draco’s heartstrings. Scorpius’ control over his magic was a little weak, which was unfortunate for the sheer power of the magic he did produce. He’d already set fire to quite a few things and broken many an ornament in tantrums and fits of sadness or anger, and Draco couldn’t feel safe introducing him to Muggle children. But he hadn’t had much luck finding out about the Wizarding community in Malaysia, or if there even was one. It wasn’t like he could just Google it and find an answer. 

Still, Scorpius’ mention of a party put Draco’s guard down. In past years, he’d asked for the most ridiculously out-there things and been quite sulky when he didn’t get them, and the fact that they were starting out with something like a party meant Draco could get his hopes up.

“You can have anything you want,” Draco said.

“Anything?”

“Nothing dangerous.”

“Everything’s dangerous to you, Father.”

Draco laughed and shook his head. “Just keep it within reason.”

There were a few moments of silence.

“Oh! I know!” Scorpius exclaimed. “We can go camping!”

Outside, a strike of lighting cracked down, and thunder roared ominously, perfectly mimicking the sudden dread Draco was feeling. He had never been an outdoorsy kind of guy. He much preferred the comforts of the city over roughing it out in the wild. But Scorpius was the complete opposite. He loved nature, forests, rivers - anything that Draco would much rather keep himself away from. And he’d been trying to get Draco to take him to one of these places for ages.

“Camping,” Draco mused. “That’s more of an abstract present, isn’t it?”

“I don’t mind,” Scorpius said cheerfully. “I read all about the parks and forest reserves here, Father! I want to go to one of them!” 

“Oh, Scorpius, I don’t know,” Draco said slowly. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous, too?”

“Not if we have a guide!” Scorpius replied. He clasped his hands in front of him and looked at Draco with his best puppy dog eyes. “Please, please, please? You said I could have anything!”

Draco knew Scorpius wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable, and that he should accommodate his wishes, and maybe that he should also stop getting his hopes up too quickly. “Why don’t you think of where you want to go camping and we’ll see how it goes?”

Scorpius’ entire body seemed to light up with glee. “Oh, yay!” he exclaimed. “Thank you, Father! I’ll go think of a place right now!”

Sighing again as Scorpius dashed out of the room in excitement, the door falling closed behind him, Draco threw a glance over at the elegant, dark wooden photo frame on his desk, with intricate patterns of florals, leaves, and vines carved into its surface. Behind the clear glass pane was a picture of Astoria Greengrass smiling delicately for the camera, then throwing her head back and laughing at something Draco had said - something he couldn’t quite remember, now. Her long, flowing locks of dark hair were tossed back over her shoulder as she laughed, in a single, fluid, impossibly graceful motion. She’d chosen to keep her own last name, much to the rest of the Malfoy family’s disdain, and much to Draco’s carefully concealed delight. He smiled to think of the complexities of her character - her strong-willed, hard-headed determination, her bright, soaring intelligence that Draco could never hope to keep up with and honestly never truly wanted to, and her gentleness as she helped him understand new perspectives of the world he’d been shielded from all his life. Despite everything that had happened to her, and all the hardships she had been through, Astoria had always been full of joy, a direct opposite to Draco’s constant whining and pessimism. How she had ever been able to put up with him, Draco had no clue. He missed her dearly. 

“There’s so much of you in him, Story,” Draco said quietly, reaching a hand out and gently running a finger down the side of her face, taking in her beautiful hazel eyes, twinkling and full of kindness and just a dash of mischief, even through a photograph. Their journey together had been riddled with misfortune and difficulty, from his parents’ outright disapproval of her abandonment of Pureblood ideals and preference for more liberal, tolerant ways of thought, to the sudden illness that had befallen her so quickly and taken her shortly after Scorpius’ fifth birthday. 

Barely two months after, Draco, haunted by memories of her, sick and tired of his parents’ bigoted ways, and desperately longing for a fresh start somewhere no one knew his name, decided to migrate to Malaysia, which already had a large and steadily growing expat community. Scorpius, constantly excited by the idea of adventure, had been extremely eager about this move, but Draco’s parents had definitely not approved.

_ “You bring shame to the Malfoy name!” _

Draco flinched as he remembered his father’s angrily shouted parting words to him. He knew that his parents loved him, and that they had only ever wanted what was best for him - but their idea of what exactly the best things for him were had always been very misguided. As he grew, Draco found it increasingly more difficult to believe that their anti-Muggle ideals were harmless, and it had been their refusal to see things from a different point of view that drove the final nail in the coffin in his decision to move. His mother, who he still corresponded with regularly, had been trying to shift her perspectives. His father, on the other hand… Draco often wondered if he was a lost cause altogether. It was a pity, because he’d always been very close to his father, and admittedly, he missed him quite a bit.

Draco lurched out of his musings when Scorpius burst back into his study, flinging the door wide open.

“Scorpius, what did I tell you about being gentle with doors?” Draco sighed.

Scorpius threw a far-too-casual look back at the door in question, then turned back and grinned. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, not looking particularly sorry at all. “Anyway, I’ve decided where I want to go!”

“Already?” Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe that meant Scorpius had chosen something closer to home - like a “camping resort” with decent facilities, lots of bug spray, and zero leeches to speak of.

Of course, Draco had, once again, gotten his hopes up for nothing.

“Yup!” Scorpius grinned. “I want to go to Endau-Rompin National Park!”

Draco had no idea where that was. Praying it wouldn’t be somewhere completely recluse, he turned quickly to his laptop and hastily typed it into the search bar. When the results came up, he quickly scanned for a location.

There was another vicious flash of lightning, followed by a thunderous rumble. Scorpius winced and shrank back slightly before quickly puffing his chest out again. He’s always been frightened of storms, even though he tried not to be when he was safe inside a building.

Draco read the top few results of his search, then groaned. “But that’s all the way in Johor!” he exclaimed.

“So?” Scorpius asked, pouting. “You said we could go wherever I wanted! Please, Father?”

“Look, Scorpius,” Draco said, trying to reason with him. “I know you’ve wanted to do this for a long time, but why don’t we take it in stages? Start small, work our way up?”

“But it’s my birthday!” Scorpius said sadly. “I only turn eight once!”

Draco glanced back at the framed picture of Astoria. She was mid-laugh, almost as though she was teasing Draco about his predicament.

“I’d have to take days off,” Draco said.

“Just a few, Father!” Scorpius cried. He was beginning to pout. “I’ll do lots of chores! Please?”

Knowing this was something he’d probably regret, Draco heaved one final, defeated sigh and nodded his head.

Scorpius whooped in glee. “Thank you Father!” he shouted, running towards Draco and leaping up to scramble onto his lap. Draco winced. The boy was getting heavy. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Draco gave him a kiss on the head. “You’re welcome. Now, what about those chores?”

Scorpius giggled as he jumped off of Draco, accidentally stepping on his foot in the process. Draco barely contained his yelp as Scorpius zoomed out of the room again. The door closed, more gently this time, with an oddly finite-sounding click.

Draco glanced out the window. The rain had very suddenly let up, now only falling as a light drizzle. The sun was beginning to peer out from behind the clouds, too, and Draco realized that even after three years living here, the weather here was still a bit of an anomaly to him. 

He cast one more look at Astoria’s picture. “Oh, Story, what am I getting myself into?” he sighed.

\--

Draco had never learned to drive like Muggles, and he had almost never been outside of Kuala Lumpur. Perhaps he’d taken a few forays to Selangor, but going as far as Johor down south wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, so he couldn’t trust himself to Apparate there, much less bring young Scorpius along with him.

If anyone told Draco four years ago that he would consider riding in a Muggle car boring and ordinary, he would have laughed and probably hexed the person. But now, as he and Scorpius sat inside a taxi, all he could think of was how sick he was of travelling and how much he would rather they reached their destination already.

It was ridiculously hot that day, as it often was in Malaysia. The taxi driver’s air conditioning barely did anything for the sweat that Draco was working up. Meanwhile, Scorpius was curled up on the seat, his head in Draco’s lap. Usually, Draco would find the situation adorable, but with the temperature, all Scorpius was doing was causing Draco even more heat.

Draco didn’t hold it against him for being tired, though. They’d just endured a train journey that spanned four and a half hours and two separate trains, involving Scorpius running out of games to play about halfway through the first train and being impossible to entertain, them nearly missing their connecting train because of the long line at the bathroom, and Scorpius suffering motion sickness throughout almost the entirety of the second train.

“How much longer till we get there?” Draco called to the taxi driver in front, whose identification pamphlet stuck to the dashboard showed a rather unflatteringly stretched out picture of the driver alongside the name “Nurul Ashikin.” The photo showed her wearing a bright green tudung which looked exactly like the one she was wearing now.

“Just 60 minutes  _ je _ , boss!” Ashikin replied.

Draco tried not to groan out loud. They’d already been in the car for half an hour and he could barely take a second longer. 

Perhaps noticing Draco’s discomfort, Ashikin attempted to strike up a conversation. If there was one thing Draco had always appreciated about Malaysians, it was their friendliness, and their tendency to treat everyone around them like family - even those they’d just met. 

“Your first time visiting here ah?” Ashikin asked.

“No, I’ve lived here for about three years,” Draco replied. “I’ve never been to Johor, though.”

“I see. So, come here for what?”

“Needed a change,” Draco replied shortly. He tried to change the subject. “How long have you been a taxi driver?”

Ashikin laughed. “Funny question,” she said. “I did it since my kids left. They went overseas to take big jobs. They say I don’t need work anymore and they will pay for my life, but I like driving. So I quit my office job to do this.”

Draco smiled. “That’s… quite a story.”

On his lap, Scorpius stirred. “Father, what would you do if I could work enough to pay for your life?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Scorpius,” Draco replied, leaning back against the leather seats. They weren’t real leather, but they were soaking up the heat and causing more sweat all the same. “Maybe I’d be a taxi driver too.”

“But you can’t even drive, Father!” Scorpius exclaimed. 

Ashikin laughed again. “So nice ah, your boy,” he said. “When my kids were his age, they only want me to buy them things.”

Draco shook his head good-naturedly. “Don’t praise my son too much yet. He’s the reason we’re going to Johor.”

As they talked, laughed, and discussed a wide range of different things, Draco found that, although the sweltering heat was still making him very uncomfortable, he was able to take his mind off things for a bit. Scorpius was especially eager to have someone other than Draco to talk to, and Draco realized sadly that Scorpius really didn’t get out much.

And then, Ashikin said the words Draco had been longing to hear. “Boss,  _ dah  _ arrive  _ dah _ !”

“Finally!” Draco exclaimed. Scorpius was already scrambling off his lap to stare out the window. Draco followed his glance and felt his heart beginning to sink already. Even though they hadn’t entered the park itself yet, everything was overwhelmingly green. Trees stretched overhead, their branches reaching far and wide in an evergreen canopy that seemed to go on forever. They appeared to be working very hard to ensure shade for those beneath them, and Draco appreciated the sentiment - really, he did - but the moment he thought about roughing it under them for five days and four nights, he began to feel a little sick.

Scorpius had opened the door of the taxi and was running out, whooping in glee as he went. Draco sighed, leaning over to pay Ashikin, and found that the driver was getting out of the car himself.

“I have a friend here,” Ashikin said. “When I send people here I go see him.”

“That’s nice,” Draco said. “How much do I owe you?”

“70 ringgit, boss,” replied Ashikin.

Draco was in the middle of handing over the money when Scorpius began to shout. “Father, Father! Look!”

Scorpius was eagerly pointing upwards, where a gigantic sign loomed ominously. It was designed to look like a gigantic log with a section carved out in the middle, and it read “ _ Taman Negara Endau-Rompin Johor Malaysia National Park. _ ” 

“Are you doing a guided tour?” Ashikin asked.

“Yes,” Draco replied distractedly, his mind already half conjuring thoughts of icky blood-sucking leeches, a variety of different creepy crawly bugs making their way up his pants, and the horrifying lack of running water. But luckily for him, he had a secret - the tent he’d brought along was a Wizarding one, equipped with all the luxuries he’d grown accustomed to, and with lots of space. He’d also charmed it so that it would remain firmly zipped whenever an unsuspecting Muggle attempted to open it. He felt a little guilty - as though he was cheating his way through this trial Scorpius had put him up to - but the kid needed to learn about compromise eventually, right?

Now that he was out of the extremely stuffy atmosphere of the taxi, Draco felt a little more confident. The trees provided quite a good roof and the rays of the sun lightly beat down on him in speckles from between the leaves. It was almost as if the sun was hiding behind the trees, hinting at good things coming just around the corner.

“Father, Father, hurry up! You’re going to slow!” Scorpius shouted.

“It’s slowly, not slow,” Draco said, shaking his head and correcting him.

Scorpius didn’t seem to care about his grammatical error, instead skipping off ahead in eagerness. 

As Ashikin helped lead Draco towards the guide centre where they’d meet their tour guide, chatting cheerfully away about all the friends she knew, Draco felt his spirits lifting. Sure, maybe nature wasn’t his thing, but he had to admit that the surrounding area looked absolutely beautiful in all its lush green, and Scorpius was excited and happy, which was something Draco treasured seeing very much. 

They arrived at a small hut that read “ _ Informasi”  _ on it. It was quite shabby-looking but it suited the air of the place, so Draco found it almost charming. Almost, but not quite. Perhaps he was softening up. 

There was a sudden break in the trees in front of the information cabin, and the sun did not waste its time in making itself known again. He shielded his eyes and winced, squinting uncomfortably as he ducked hurriedly into the hut, glad to be away from the overwhelming back-to-basics rusticness of the outdoors for just a moment. Forget softening up - he had just experienced a lapse in judgement, surely. He wondered how long they would be hiking before setting up camp so Draco could retreat to the soft sofa inside his tent.

Ashikin was still talking at this point, but she stopped as soon as she got to the receptionist’s counter. It was made rather sturdily out of some sort of heavily varnished wood and smelled very much like the entirety of an old furniture store was contained inside it.

“Eh,  _ Macha _ ,” Ashikin grinned, speaking to the man behind the counter.

“Back again I see, Ashikin. You make friends everywhere,” said the man, who had a slender nose, dark skin, and wore rectangular glasses. “Hello, sir,” he added to Draco.

Draco tried to push more thoughts of the heatwave and leeches out of his mind for long enough to send a smile in the receptionist’s direction. “Good morning.”

“Do you have a booking for a guided expedition today, sir?”

“Yes I do,” Draco said, fumbling in his bag for the papers. 

Meanwhile, Scorpius was busy dashing from one end of the little hut to the other, shouting. “This is so cool!” he exclaimed. “Father, Father, look at this!”

Draco looked to see Scorpius pointing at a spot in the wall. “Yes, Scorp, very nice… err… wood.”

“No, Father, you’re not looking properly!” Scorpius pouted. “It’s a spider!”

Draco struggled to suppress a shudder.

At that moment, a woman with her already short hair pulled back in a tiny ponytail came out from a door behind the counter. 

“Hui Ying!” Ashikin exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. 

Hui Ying, as Draco supposed the woman’s name was, looked up and smiled, too. “Huh, back again ah, Ashikin?” she laughed, echoing the words of the receptionist from a moment ago. Her gaze fell on Draco and she gave him a very warm grin. “Oh, welcome, sir!”

“Yes, thanks,” Draco said, absentmindedly trying to hand the receptionist his booking receipt while Scorpius pulled at his arm.

“You,  _ ke, yang  _ guide my friend today?” Ashikin asked. 

“ _ Tak lah hari ni _ ,” Hui Ying replied. “I have a booking for later. Big family.”

“Pity,” Ashikin said. He turned to Draco. “Boss, Hui Ying is the best guide here. She knows a lot about nature and survival, and she’s gone around these woods many times.”

Hui Ying laughed, waving Ashikin’s statements off. “Don’t tell the other guides you said that!” she said.

The receptionist handed Draco back his booking receipt. “All seems to be in order,” he said. “Please wait a moment and I’ll go get your guide.” He turned to Hui Ying. “Ying, please get the  _ Mat Salleh  _ out here.”

Hui Ying made a mock salute and vanished back through the door.

Meanwhile, Scorpius had latched on even harder to Draco’s arm and was trying to drag him over to the wall he’d been engrossed with earlier. “See, the spider’s right here…”

“Scorp, I’m not really a fan of arachnids -”

“But look how pretty it is!” Scorpius insisted.

Draco heard the door behind the counter swing open and shut again and tried to use the appearance of their tour guide as an excuse to convince Scorpius to stop bringing him towards the spider, which Draco could now see had long spindly legs with yellow dots on their joints - a sure sign that it was poisonous or venomous. 

But as Draco wheeled around and caught sight of the guide in question, he felt his jaw drop. “You!” he shouted. And in that moment, Draco wondered to himself how unlucky he had to be if he travelled halfway across the world to escape his past only to find it had followed him there. 

Standing in front of him, mouth agape in shock, glasses crooked and smudged on their lenses, hair messy as ever, was Harry Potter.


	2. Day One

The entire room fell silent as Draco stared at Potter, and Potter stared right back. Draco almost moved to pinch himself, wondering if he was having some weird fever dream after passing out from the heat before they even got to Endau-Rompin. But he knew that was not the case because he could feel the sweat on his back beneath the backpack he was carrying, and Scorpius was still gripping his wrist tightly enough to bruise.

Potter looked almost the same as Draco remembered him. Long, lanky limbs, messy raven black hair, green eyes bright enough to see from across the room, and that confused look on his face Draco used to treasure seeing every single time he aimed an insult at him in Hogwarts. Somehow, though, he also looked… different. It was as though he wore his age, and the experience his years brought with it, on his sleeve. No, not just on his sleeve - on his entire body.

If Draco was being honest with himself, Potter looked… good. Happy, even, if a bit weathered down over the years. There was still an insufferable, blazing sort of determination that he carried with him that Draco could almost tangibly feel from here; ever the hero, as always. He found his eyes lingering a little too long on the finer details of Potter’s face - the almond-shaped eyes, the slender yet strong jawline, the way his hair fell over his forehead just enough to cover his scar - and averted his gaze.

Now that Draco was able to form coherent thoughts through his initial shock, he found himself wondering how Potter wound up here. Did he, too, have some tragedy in his past that led him to move away from home? Or had he just decided he was sick of his Boy Who Lived Twice fame, leading him to seek out a new location where no one knew his name? Was he simply the adventurous kind who craved more outlandish adventures after all the excitement he’d experienced in his youth? Or, as Draco was beginning to think was increasingly likely, had the entire universe decided to screw Draco over so thoroughly that having him suffer through a nature expedition wasn’t torture enough, so it brought down a long-lost rival to wreak havoc on him, too?

The little informational hut was completely quiet. The receptionist had suddenly become very busy sorting through some papers, Ashikin was distractedly checking her phone, and Hui Ying’s eyes were very closely following the situation, a thoughtful look on her face. Potter, naturally, was completely silent too, eyes almost comically wide.

Scorpius was the first to speak. “Father? What’s wrong?”

The words broke the spell of silence that seemed to be hanging over the room, and Ashikin strode towards Potter, looking quite eager to ignore the awkward moment that had passed. “Harry!” she exclaimed, waving. Potter, still looking rather dumbfounded, raised his hand to wave back in a manner that looked almost automatic, as if it was on reflex.

“Good to see you again, Shikin,” Potter said, finally seeming to shake himself out of his stupor. Draco had to give him credit for recovering quickly enough, if nothing else.

Ashikin leaned back and turned to look at Draco. “So, you two… know each other?”

Potter stammered a little before replying. “Sort of.”

“We went to school together,” Draco supplemented.

Next to him, Scorpius gasped. “I thought you said you didn’t know anyone here, Father!”

“I thought I didn’t,” Draco replied.

Scorpius took off running towards Harry, found he was too short to reach him over the counter, and unceremoniously burst through the swinging wooden gate marked “for staff only” to get to him instead. “Hi!” he practically yelled. “I’m Scorpius!”

“Scorpius?” Potter repeated, leaning down to smile at him and shake his hand. He glanced up, back towards Draco, and chuckled. “What an interesting name.”

“His mother chose the name,” Draco said shortly. It came out sounding a lot more harsh than he meant for it to, and he wondered if the coldness in his voice was apparent.

Ashikin didn’t seem to notice. “ _Wah_ , surprise reunion!” she said, almost too pleasantly.

“What’s your name, Mister?” Scorpius asked, staring at Harry with big, fascinated eyes.

“You can call me Harry,” Potter replied. He straightened up and placed a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, looking straight at Draco with a smile on his face. “And sir, I’ll be your guide on this expedition.”

Usually, by now, Draco would have been bristling. He’d always been ridiculously protective over Scorpius - too protective, Astoria might add - and watching Scorpius interact so freely with a man he heavily disliked would have ordinarily sent him hurrying over to take his son further away. But at that very moment, he was too busy dealing with the immense shock to register anything other than the fact that he would be stuck with Potter for five days and four nights.

Ashikin was still chuckling. “Got a lot to catch up on!” she grinned, and with that she turned to the receptionist and immediately began an overly focused conversation in very fast Malay that Draco couldn’t keep up with.

Hui Ying, meanwhile, had her eyebrows raised. “Yes. A lot to catch up on,” she repeated slowly. Then, her thoughtful expression shifted quickly into a very pleasant grin. “Alright, sir, you don’t want to miss too much of the daylight!” she chirped, stuffing a large knapsack at Potter and beginning to push him towards Draco. “Harry is a fantastic guide, one of our best, you’re in very good hands!”

Before Draco knew what had happened, he, Scorpius, and Potter had been collectively ushered out of the information hut, and they were back under the sweltering heat of the sun. Scorpius didn’t seem to notice, still staring up at Potter in complete awe.

Draco found himself glancing at Potter too, albeit without the “complete awe” bit. The man still looked slightly shaken, but he was grinning, saying something to Scorpius that Draco’s brain was too jumbled to hear. He hadn’t often seen Potter smiling back then. He’d been too busy trying to solicit his anger to bother looking for smiles. And even when he’d seen Potter laughing with his friends across the hall at dinner, the smile never completely reached his eyes. He supposed it would be hard to be truly happy if you’d lost both your parents and several friends to an all-powerful evil wizard hell-bent on murdering you.

Draco, like everyone else in the Wizarding world, had seen the newspaper headlines proclaiming that the great Harry Potter had quit his Auror training, dumped his girlfriend and left his home in the Borough of Islington. For the next several months, publications of all kinds had been obsessed with where he’d gone. They interviewed his friends and his ex, who all seemed to know where he was but refused to divulge any information. No one successfully located him, though many tried, and theories ranging from the vaguely plausible to the wildly unlikely were on everyone’s lips. Then months turned into years, and slowly, stories of Potter faded away, and he became more myth and legend than real person.

Draco wondered if Potter was happy now, out here immersed in a completely different culture, doing a rather odd job for a man of his skills. He certainly seemed happier, but could you ever really tell?

Potter cleared his throat. “Right, so!” he clapped his hands together once, looked briskly at Draco and hastily averted his gaze a split second after. “Welcome to Endau-Rompin National Park! Thank you for signing up for our five day, four night guided expedition.” He met Draco’s eyes and Draco felt at an odd tug at the pit of his stomach that he attributed to awkwardness. “If you’re both ready, we’ll start heading for the trailhead right away!”

“I’m ready!” Scorpius said eagerly.

Potter continued to watch Draco, expecting a response. Draco slightly inclined his head.

“Great!” Potter exclaimed. He began to walk off towards a dense part of the forest. To his credit, he seemed quite glad to keep his distance, allowing Draco and Scorpius to keep mostly to themselves. Or, at least, that’s what would be happening if Scorpius wasn’t so eagerly tugging at Draco’s arm, enthralled by meeting someone new and magical for the first time in a long time.

Draco tried to think positively as they entered the shade of the trees once more. Scorpius was getting the birthday gift he’d always wanted, and they were both out and about for once instead of being holed up at home. And at least, Draco thought, it couldn’t get any worse than this.

“By the way, Malfoy,” Potter said suddenly, turning around just before he entered a thicker cluster of trees. “There are no magic tents allowed. I have a new spare tent you’ll be using instead.”

Draco groaned inwardly. He supposed that, if Potter was involved in something, it could always get worse.

\--

The sun was still beating down unforgivingly, like a molten and cruel rock that sought only to break down what remained of Draco’s resolve and turn him into a mere shadow of the man he used to be. Perhaps he was being a little overdramatic, but it really was rather hot, especially now that they’d emerged in a rather large clearing that didn’t have the luxury of shade from the trees.

In front of them in this large clearing were several small, quaint-looking houses not arranged in any particular manner. They looked as though they’d been randomly built wherever the owners saw fit. Walking around outside these homes were several people of all ages, sunkissed skin brown and tanned, barefoot as they walked, ran, or sat on the ground.

There were women dressed in plain white t-shirts and long, colourful _batik_ skirts, hair wrapped in a neat fold in light-coloured cloth, sitting with their legs folded as they wove baskets out of leaves, smoked foods, and arranged their wares on mats in front of them. The men were mainly dressed similarly to the women and appeared to be returning from foraging and tending to livestock, but the group that currently caught Draco’s eye was that of young men and teenage boys approaching.

These guys were dressed completely differently. They’d made coverings from a mix of leaves and tree bark and had hats made from twigs and branches, many of which still had leaves on. Some carried baskets made from wood or dried leaves, others wore vests of leaf or bark to match their loincloth, and more still carried smooth, well-crafted wooden weapons. One even had a headpiece fashioned from the skull of what Draco figured was a deer.

“ _Selamat datang!_ ” said one of the men, clearly the oldest of the lot.

Scorpius repeated the phrase quietly, fascinated.

“That means ‘welcome’,” Draco whispered to him.

One of the men standing amongst this group was eyeing Draco and Scorpius with suspicion. When Draco met his gaze, the man’s eyes seemed to almost flash with an emotion Draco wasn’t able to discern properly. It made Draco incredibly uncomfortable, but the man’s stare was unwavering.

Meanwhile, Potter was already conversing with the older man who had greeted them. Draco couldn’t help feeling impressed as he listened to Potter speaking. He was very fluent, barely pausing between sentences, and as Draco listened to his careful pronunciation of the language’s flowing vowels and hard stops, he felt something funny in his chest. He wondered if he was suffering heatstroke already.

Finally, Potter finished up and turned back to Draco and Scorpius. “We’ll be having lunch here in Kampung Peta before our boat ride.”

“Boat ride?” Draco repeated.

“We have to cross the river to get to the trailhead,” Potter replied. He was being too nice, too pleasant, and it made Draco oddly nervous. Maybe it was just his customer service voice talking. “Anyway, welcome to Kampung Peta! It’s home to these amazing Orang Asli - the indigenous people of Malaysia. This is the Jakun tribe. They’re very friendly and have a lot of stories to tell about the myths and legends of the forest.”

Scorpius had approached one of the youngest boys in the group of men in traditional garb and was staring at him in fascination. The boy, too, seemed intrigued and was reaching up to touch Scorpius’ silvery blond hair in interest. Draco felt a smile forming at his lips, realizing how long it had been since he’d seen Scorpius interact with anyone his own age.

“Now that’s not a sight I’ve seen,” Potter said, chuckling.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at him. He was squinting, perhaps due to the sun. “Excuse me?”

“You smiling,” Potter replied. “I don’t remember ever seeing that, unless you were smiling at my misery - in which case you never smiled exactly like that, anyway.”

Draco felt himself go rigid, but he wasn’t sure why. There was something about this that made him feel very strange, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from sounding much less friendly than Potter did. “Perhaps you were never paying attention.”

To Draco’s surprise, Potter laughed. “Maybe. Whatever the case… it’s a good look. You smiling, I mean.”

Before Draco could fully process the fact that _the_ Harry Potter, his once sworn enemy, had given him what sounded like a genuine compliment, another man came up to them and began to usher them forward.

“Ah, time to sit down and eat!” Potter said cheerfully. “You’ll love the food here, it’s all cooked in bamboo and tastes phenomenal.”

Scorpius was running up to Draco. “Father, is it time for lunch?”

Relieved to have an excuse not to talk to Potter, Draco smiled and took his son’s hand. “Yes it is. You must be hungry after all that travelling.”

“Starving!” Scorpius agreed, nodding sagely.

Potter was chuckling again. Draco ignored him.

The three of them were led to a clearing in the ground, where several members of the tribe were sat on the floor, their legs crossed neatly. Nearby, women and young men were finishing up over two fires. They were holding out large banana leaves and pouring portions of food out from bamboo tubes onto them.

Potter seated himself and patted the ground with his hand. “Sit,” he said.

Draco sat, and Scorpius followed suit, his eyes wide as he watched the food preparations. “What is that?” he asked.

“Let me ask,” Potter said. He leaned over and conversed briefly with the person next to him. Draco found himself hanging on every well-enunciated Malay word, and he wondered why the language had suddenly become so fascinating to him since they got to Kampung Peta.

It wasn’t long before Potter leaned back over. “So those chunks of meat come from deer, and it’s been slow cooked. The funny-looking fritters are two versions of fried tapioca, and the vegetables are also tapioca, but the leaves.” He smiled. “Since they’re expecting more company later, they’ve also made some palm pith curry and _lemang_.”

“ _Lemang_?” Scorpius repeated. “What’s that? It sounds like a lemur.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not lemur meat, I’m sure,” Draco said, gently running a hand through Scorpius’ hair to fix some of the frizziness from the heat.

“It’s actually just rice,” Potter supplemented. “Tubes of rice rolled into bamboo. It’s probably my favourite bit of Orang Asli food.”

“Oh! If it’s your favourite, I wanna try some!” Scorpius chirped.

“You’ll get the chance,” Potter assured him.

Food was served quickly, and Draco wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself as he held the leaf awkwardly in his hands. How was one supposed to eat food like this with no cutlery? He stole a glance at Potter, who had moved over to allow another member of the tribe to sit down and was now uncomfortably close to him. He tried to see what Potter was doing with his own food, but his close proximity made it suddenly somewhat hard to focus.

Draco’s brain finally registered what he was seeing - Potter was scooping the food up with his right hand, holding the leaf in his left. He raised a handful of food to his mouth, his hand held in a spoon-like shape, and Draco found himself feeling even warmer than usual as Potter put the food into his mouth. Potter’s lips wrapped around the tip of his hand easily, and the sight was doing something strange to Draco’s…

“Father, Father!” Scorpius exclaimed. Draco turned back to see that Scorpius had managed to spill half of his food on the floor. He cursed himself for getting too distracted by watching Potter eat. He was mildly horrified at what he’d just caught himself doing. Maybe it had been too long since he’d last been with someone, and it was causing him to be far too easy to attract. Yes, that must be it.

As Draco worked to help Scorpius clean up the mess, he cast one more cautious look in Potter’s direction and wondered what it was about his former rival that was screwing with his head so badly.

\--

They spent a couple of hours in Kampung Peta. Draco wasn’t complaining - the longer they spent in a civilization, the better - but it certainly hadn’t been how he expected to begin the trip. He first watched as Scorpius ran around with boys his age, laughing and giggling and finding ways to communicate with body language and signs. Then he and Scorpius listened to members of the tribe who could speak English tell stories of myths and legends of the forest, pausing every now and then as the storytellers stopped to confirm translations with Potter. Scorpius’ eyes seemed to light up with every new tale.

Draco and Scorpius also stopped by some of the stores open in the little village. They sold colourful handicrafts of all kinds and Scorpius managed to convince Draco to buy him a little coin purse and a figure of a crocodile made from well-woven leaves cinched together in a perfect structure. Draco also noticed that the roofs of the houses were all equipped with solar panels, meaning these people had electricity, and it took everything he had in him not to ask if they could just camp out in the village forever. The people were warm and friendly, and it wasn’t all jungle. Well, mostly warm and friendly - aside from that one villager who was still watching Draco and Scorpius with utmost suspicion.

“It’s about time we got a move on!” Potter exclaimed after a while, completely crushing Draco’s hopes. “It’s getting a little cloudy, so it’s the perfect time for us to head down the river.”

Sure enough, the sun has temporarily become hidden behind a multitude of fluffy clouds. Why, then, was it still so damned hot? Draco wondered if he should have been more careful about choosing a country to migrate to instead of just going for one situated right on the damned equator.

“One of the tribe members will be helping us row the boat out to the trailhead,” Potter went on, beckoning for Draco and Scorpius to follow.

“Do we get to do camping now, Father?” Scorpius asked eagerly.

“I suppose so,” said Draco, trying to sound enthusiastic even though he felt more nervous than excited.

“We will be!” Potter chimed in. “Not to worry, Scorpius!”

Scorpius cheered happily and began to run, dragging Draco along with him. Draco felt his shoulders groaning as the heavy backpack he was carrying jiggled uncomfortably as he jogged to keep up.

A rather crudely-cut boat was waiting for them on a sandy shore. The water was so clear and calm that Draco could see right to its base, where countless pebbles lay arranged around each other in a haphazard mosaic. Already waiting in the boat was the same man who’d been so closely keeping his eye on Draco and Scorpius earlier.

“This is Busu,” Potter said, gesturing to the man. Busu inclined his head, but his steely gaze was still fixed on Draco and was anything but welcoming. “He’s going to help row us to the other side of this river. It’s called the Endau river, and the water is so clean that it’s actually completely safe to drink from directly.”

Scorpius was already quickly clambering into the boat very clumsily, but at Potter’s words he stopped short and scooped water from the river into his hands. Before Draco could so much as say a word, he’d already downed the water.

“I hope you were right about the water’s cleanliness, Potter,” Draco said, watching as Scorpius resumed his efforts to get into the boat. He was a little short for his age, perhaps, but if he was anything like Draco, he’d shoot up in height when he hit his teenage years.

“Merlin’s honour,” Potter replied, grinning. “Get in, everyone!”

Draco stepped into the boat, reaching down to help Scorpius get in, too.

“No, I wanna do it myself!” Scorpius exclaimed.

Draco sighed. “As you wish, Scorp.”

Potter had climbed in too, noticeably with the same amount of grace that Scorpius was currently exhibiting - almost none. Draco wondered if Scorpius would never outgrow his clumsiness, either.

It took nearly a full minute for Scorpius to successfully get into the boat, after which he tumbled in headfirst and had to be hastily caught in Draco’s arms before anything went awry. “You need to be a little more careful, son,” he said, trying to fix Scorpius’ hair.

“I did do that!” Scorpius insisted.

Draco decided that there would be virtually no benefit to him attempting to contradict his son, so he stayed silent instead.

“Let’s go!” Potter said cheerfully. He turned to Busu. “ _Okay, boleh mula_.”

Busu nodded and pushed off the riverside with his oar. Draco supposed Busu didn’t speak English, which was a pity, because he couldn’t ask what his problem was. Then again, perhaps confronting the person driving your boat wasn’t the best of ideas.

Potter picked up a spare oar and began to help, too.

“Can I try?” Scorpius asked.

Draco had a brief flash of a vision of the entire boat capsizing.

“Perhaps on the way back, Scorpius,” Potter said. “We’re now on our way to Kuala Jasin, which is where the trailhead is! You’ll be able to enjoy the beautiful sight of dense, thick forest on all sides of the river as we go. If you’re very lucky, you may even spot a school of fish swimming by - a very rare sight here for guests on the Endau river. It’ll take us 45 minutes to get to Kuala Jasin, so strap yourselves in for a relaxing ride!”

Forty-five minutes. Draco breathed deeply. That’s how long they had until he had to be stuck in a forest for the next few days. Plenty of time to prepare himself, he reckoned. His mind was a bit clearer now without the sun beating down so hard, and he was very grateful that it had gone cloudy enough to make the boat ride less tortuous.

“What will we do once we get there, Harry?” Scorpius asked.

“We’re going to take a bit of a hike, then stop to teach some basic camping and survival tips, since you guys decided to sign up for the beginner’s outdoor package,” Potter said. “Stuff like building a tent, making a fire -”

“Making a fire?” Draco repeated. “Couldn’t we just use our wands?” He couldn’t keep a hint of a challenge out of his voice, and he noticed Potter stiffening the moment he detected it.

“Unfortunately, we will be doing things the Muggle way here,” Potter replied. “We want the authentic wilderness experience, and a lot of the point is to really feel what it’s like to rough it!” He’d put on a very carefully polite tone that Draco could only describe as a customer service voice again. Draco felt the sudden urge to antagonize him, and it took everything he had to squash down that desire.

“I want to learn to make fire the Muggle way!” Scorpius exclaimed. “I’m not allowed to do magic yet so if I know it this way I can make fires all the time.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, son,” Draco said quickly, his mind suddenly full of images of his desk on fire. “I mean, where else would you make fires if not in the woods like this?”

“I can think of some places…” Scorpius said thoughtfully, immediately sending Draco’s anxious thoughts into overdrive.

“Anyway!” Potter piped up, effectively cutting off the conversation. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s enjoy this lovely boat ride!”

The rest of the boat trip passed in more peace than Draco was expecting. Apart from trying to keep Scorpius from tipping the boat over every time he thought he saw a fish, there wasn’t much to do except listen to Potter talk about the forest, which he seemed to know a lot about. Draco had to admit that there was something rather pleasant about seeing Potter comfortably in his element instead of fighting to stay alive and happy day in and day out. Sometimes, he found himself staring too much.

They didn’t get to spot any schools of fish, unfortunately, and when they arrived on the shoreline, Scorpius was grumbling a little about it.

“When else am I gonna see real fish, Father?” he pouted.

“You’ve seen real fish at the Manor pond, Scorp,” Draco replied.

“Oh,” Scorpius said, looking thoughtful. “Those were different, though.”

Potter was conversing with Busu. Busu’s voice was deep and almost thundering, and it sounded like he was vehemently refusing to do something. Potter, meanwhile, was trying to reason with him - or at least, that’s what Draco could infer from his very limited grasp of the language.

“Potter, what’s going on?” Draco hissed.

Potter glanced back at him. “Busu is one of the guys who usually accompanies our guests and tourists on these longer tours, but he doesn’t want to follow this time.” He furrowed his brow, then shook his head and smiled, plastering that customer service look on his face again. “Just give me a moment.” He spun back around to speak more to Busu.

Once again, Draco found himself a little drawn in by Potter’s fluency in the language. There was something about the way each word rolled off his tongue that made Draco feel equally fascinated and tantalized. He’d never felt this way about hearing Malay being spoken before, but he remembered feeling this way when Astoria used to speak French. Maybe he just had a… language kink.

Draco shuddered. Just thinking about the fact that Potter may have been the one to make him realize that he had a language kink grossed him out. At least, he thought it did. His thoughts were a little too tangled at that moment.

Potter finally finished speaking and Busu pushed off the shore and begin to row back to his village. Draco couldn’t help scrutinizing his expression, which was carefully pleasant - again, a customer service facade - as he tried to spot any trace of emotion that would give him some clue as to why Busu refused to come along. There was some confusion there, and maybe some vague worry, but ultimately, Draco could find nothing concrete. What a disappointment. Surely he hadn’t spent his Hogwarts years examining Potter’s facial expressions for nothing. Had time really changed them that much?

“Well, let’s get going!” Potter said.

Draco tore his eyes away from Potter’s face and took Scorpius’ hand. As the forest began to close around them, Draco prayed that he would survive this trip and live to tell the tale.

\--

A light drizzle began to fall as Draco crawled out of the tent after telling Scorpius a hastily made-up bedtime story. The kid had been so excited that it had taken him forever to relax long enough for sleep to take over, even though he was tired from all the walking.

Potter had led Draco and Scorpius through a barely-there trail, telling them about how to find foods that were safe to eat in the wilderness, showing them how to mark their journey so they could find their way back and leave tracks if they got lost, and then stopping them once evening arrived so they could pitch tents on a nice, flat area of ground.

Draco had to admit, it was beautiful out here. The air was clean and free from the pollution he’d become accustomed to in the city and there were soft, gentle sounds of nature all around him that were oddly relaxing. The lush greenery was a sight for sore eyes and every new butterfly they saw gave Draco another reason to keep walking in hopes that they’d see another. He knew it was a gorgeous place to be, and he knew it was an incredible forest, but he was a homebody and a city boy by heart, and he couldn’t help wanting to curl up in his bed after all that walking.

He’d been much too tired to argue when Potter said they should set up their Muggle tents the Muggle way, especially since Scorpius was so eager to learn to do complex things without magic. Still, Draco couldn’t help thinking it was stupid how Potter insisted on using rocks to hammer pegs into the ground, especially when his tent came out a little too lopsided for his liking. Scorpius was proud of it, though, so Draco didn’t say anything bad about it.

“You tell nice stories,” Potter said as Draco took a seat next to the fire, which was somehow still burning strong even in the drizzling raindrops. Perhaps it was because the leaves covered most of their campsite from falling water. Neither Draco nor Scorpius had been able to get one going, so Potter had shown them the way and made it himself for tonight.

Draco contemplated being cold or giving Potter a hard time for eavesdropping, but decided against it. He was exhausted - too exhausted for that. “Part and parcel of being a father,” he replied. His voice felt scratchy after all that talking. He reached for his water bottle and downed a few gulps gratefully.

There was a few moment’s silence. Draco felt himself being compelled to look at Potter, but he restrained himself.

“So, how did you end up here?” Potter asked.

Draco felt a drop of rain fall on the tip of his nose and brushed it away. “Just needed a change. You?”

“Same, really,” Potter said.

He seemed to be waiting expectantly for Draco to say something, but Draco didn’t want to, so he took another swig of water. The drizzle got a little heavier, but still, not much water reached them thanks to the green leaf canopy above them - only the drum-like sounds of each drop hitting the trees becoming louder signified the increased precipitation.

Potter spoke again. “You mentioned the Scorpius’ mother chose his name. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where is she now?”

Draco hadn’t been prepared for that question, and it made him flinch. Then, he was speaking before he meant to. “Look, Potter, I’m only tolerating you for Scorpius’ sake,” he said coldly. “So the less small talk, the better.”

Potter’s expression quickly turned hurt. Back at Hogwarts, Draco would have treasured being able to coax that look out of the easily readable, easily aggravated Golden Boy. For some reason, now, it made his heart drop and stomach tighten to see it. In fact, he also felt almost… guilty. What was happening to him?

“Well, I’ll be out of your way then,” Potter said. He stood up and began to walk over to his own tent.

Draco didn’t know why he felt so bad about what he’d done, but he did. So he groaned, standing up too. “Potter, wait. I didn’t mean that.”

Potter looked back and made a face that almost looked like a sneer. “Save it, Malfoy,” he said. The contrast between the raw emotion now displayed on his face against the careful politeness he’d maintained all day was so stark it almost shocked Draco. “You know, I was glad to see a familiar face. I hoped we’d grown out of our schoolboy grudges. Apparently not.”

And with that, he disappeared into his own tent and zipped it shut. Draco felt his cheeks burn with shame and decided he might as well retire to his own tent, too. He crawled in next to Scorpius, wondering how he’d managed to make this trip even worse.

\--

Draco couldn’t sleep. Potter’s words echoed in his head. The rain outside was gentler now, but the fire had finally given in and gone out about half an hour ago, meaning Draco could no longer see the shadows of the trees playing against the canvas of his tent. Beside him, Scorpius was sleeping silently, a small smile on his face, oblivious to the world around him. Draco leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, then he lay back and began to think about what was going on.

He felt extremely conflicted. In the past, getting on Potter’s nerves would have been something fun - but then again, in the past, Potter would have reacted with anger and a sassy remark, not sadness. If Potter had looked so… hurt back then, Draco didn’t think he would have been able to keep up the bullying act.

Draco sighed and made his way out of his tent. A drop of rain fell on the tip of his nose again. He winced at the coldness but didn’t brush it off this time. He glanced at the dead firewood and briefly contemplated casting _Incendio_ , but it felt like a dishonest move. Then again, when had he ever cared about playing by the rules?

“ _Incendio_ ,” Draco muttered. The flames roared to life, carefully controlled in the way Draco had cast the spell. The warmth didn’t do much for the coldness that had been running through his blood since he and Potter had… well, he couldn’t say “fallen out”, because they’d never fallen in to begin with.

Steeling himself, he began to walk towards Potter’s tent. He noticed that it was moving slightly, meaning Potter was stirring and hopefully not asleep yet, either.

Draco raised his fist to knock on the tent, then realized it probably wouldn’t make much of a noise, so he cleared his throat instead.

“Hey, Potter?” he called.

There was no response. Maybe Potter _was_ asleep, after all. Draco was just about to go back to his own tent when he heard a muffled reply.

“Yeah, what is it?”

Draco opened his mouth to speak and found that his breath had caught in his throat. Dammit, what was happening to him? Why was he nervous about this?

He cleared his throat again. “Could I unzip the tent? I’d like to speak to you face-to-face.”

“Which one of your faces will I be seeing?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m trying to apologize.”

There was a huffing sound, then the zipper opened up. “Come on in.”

The tent was tiny, made specifically for one person with a little wiggle room to spare. “In the tent?”

“Lost your hearing along with your tact, Malfoy?”

“Alright, there’s no need to be a prick,” Draco muttered, making his way into the tent. Potter was sitting against the back of it, legs folded so as not to take up too much space. Draco sat himself right in front of the tent’s entrance, but the space was so small that they were still pretty close to each other.

“If there’s no need to be one, explain your decisions,” Potter replied.

He was sharp and sarcastic as ever, this man. “I can’t explain them,” Draco admitted. “But I’ve always been a prick. Born that way, I reckon.”

“I remember,” Potter said. “Guess you’re not going to grow out of that.”

“I’m trying to,” Draco replied.

“Not trying very hard, are you?”

“Could you _stop_ being sassy for one moment?” Draco snapped.

“I could, but it’s more fun this way,” Potter said, grinning.

He was smiling. At least that was a good sign. Potter looked nice with a smile on, he realized.

“Look, Potter, I’m…” Draco trailed off.

Potter was waiting patiently this time, not saying anything to retort.

Draco managed to spill the word out. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear it,” Potter said.

Draco looked up and saw that Potter was chuckling to himself.

“Yes you _did_ hear it, you prick -” Draco began, then he cut himself off and sighed. “Ugh. I said, I’m sorry.”

“I’m touched, Malfoy. Is that your first apology ever?”

Draco glowered at him. “Don’t push it, Golden Boy.”

Potter’s eyes went wide for a moment, then they softened. “Golden Boy,” he said, half-laughing. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“You should get some rest,” Potter said after a moment. “We have a few river crossings to get through tomorrow, and one of them is scheduled to be on high tide.”

Draco groaned. “Can’t I just Apparate across?”

“Where the authenticity in that?” Potter chided. He shook his head. “Not much of a nature guy, are you, Malfoy?”

“Your observational skills have sharpened since Hogwarts,” Draco noted. “Good job.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t light the fire with sticks and stones.”

“I used _a_ stick. You never specified which one.” This back-and-forth banter was easy to fall into for Draco. It felt familiar, somehow, even though they’d never bantered good-naturedly before. “But again, kudos to you and your improved intelligence, Potter. Now you can beat a goldfish at chess, I reckon.”

Potter grinned. “It’s nice of you, you know.”

“Nice? I just insulted you.”

“No, I mean, to do all this just for your son.”

The statement caught Draco by surprise, and he let a smile creep onto his lips. “I just wanted to make him happy.”

Potter’s smile matched Draco’s. “I’m sure you do that every day.”

Draco felt heat rising to his cheeks and quickly turned away, starting to get back out of the tent. The rain had stopped in the time they were talking, and the night was clearer now, so no drizzle was there to assault Draco’s nose anymore. “I’m going to get that sleep you spoke of,” Draco said.

“Good plan,” Potter replied.

“Goodnight, Potter.”

“Goodnight, Malfoy.”


	3. Day Two

Draco woke up the next day feeling refreshed. It was an extremely hot day again, and Draco’s hair was sticking uncomfortably to his forehead, but for some reason, he felt hopeful.

Scorpius seemed to notice, too. “You look like you feel better today, Father,” he said.

“I do,” Draco agreed. “Did you sleep well, Scorp?”

“Yeah!” Scorpius looked up from where he was trying to light a fire for no reason other than wanting to and failing miserably. “Oh, Father, wouldn’t it be cool if I could be a forest guide like Harry one day?”

“Sure,” Draco replied. “But just last week, didn’t you say you wanted to be a Magizoologist?”

“Yeah,” said Scorpius.

“And the week before that, didn’t you want to be a ballet dancer?”

“Yeah…”

“And the week before that, you swore you wanted to be a Federal Wand Permit Officer…”

“Yeah…”

“And wasn’t there that time you desperately longed to be an Auror?”

Scorpius giggled. “Yeah, but this is cooler!”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. “Well, whatever it is you want to do, Scorpius, you go for it.”

Scorpius frowned as though thinking hard about something. “So -”

“Anything aside from being a supervillain,” Draco said quickly before Scorpius could finish, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much X-Men.”

“But Mystique is so cool!”

“I knew those Muggle shows would get to you,” Draco smiled. He hadn’t trusted televisions at all the first time he saw them, but after successfully figuring out how to use a Muggle computer and then discovering YouTube, he figured there wasn’t much harm in watching more Muggle-made media and content if he supervised Scorpius as they did so.

A short distance away, Potter finished packing up his tent. He’d woken up later than both Draco and Scorpius today - so late that the father and son had already finished their packed breakfast when he emerged from his tent - and Draco couldn’t help wondering why. Surely a man who did this for a living didn’t accidentally oversleep often.

Still, despite his tardiness, Potter looked wide awake and fresh in a dark red t-shirt (because of course he still dressed like a Gryffindor), some camo-print trousers that seemed a tad too loose on him, and a pair of brown hiking boots. Draco suddenly felt somewhat self-conscious. Potter looked great in completely casual clothing, but Draco had spent most of his life being overdressed and didn’t like how he looked now, in mud-stained khaki trousers and a grey t-shirt that was decidedly too tight to be appropriate for all the physical activity they were doing. Then, there was the matter of his hair, which was mussed and dishevelled because of the humidity. Why couldn’t he, like Potter, look painfully sexy in completely messy hair?

Upon realizing he’d just thought of Potter as sexy, Draco shook himself. Perhaps it really had been too long since he’d been with someone. Two years after settling in Malaysia, he’d begun to think he had moved on enough to begin dating again, and he thought he’d met someone nice - a charming man who ran a little shoplot bookstore. But the anti-LGBT laws in the country had somewhat frightened Draco, and after one coffee date, he decided not to reach out again. Since then, he’d sort of sworn off dating, especially since he spent most of his time indoors, not outside meeting new people.

“Draco Malfoy watching Muggle shows - now that’s something I have to see to believe,” Potter said.

Draco rolled his eyes, but before he could reply, his son was piping up.

“What are we doing today, Harry?” Scorpius asked.

“We’re heading to the Kuala Marong campsite for lunch,” Potter said. “There are proper toilets and showers there that you can use if you like.”

Scorpius pouted. “That’s not roughing it out! When are we gonna eat lunch in the wilderness?” he asked.

Draco, personally, was in no hurry for them to do that.

“Tomorrow and the day after,” Potter promised. “We have to stop at Kuala Marong for the night anyway because there’s no terrain we can camp on between there and tomorrow’s spot.”

Scorpius seemed placated by this and grinned, picking up the small backpack he carried around with him and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go then!” he exclaimed, already having forgotten about his attempts to make a fire.

Draco picked up his own much heavier backpack and glanced around at their campsite, now bare except for the remnants of the fire that had burned for some of the night. He hoped that Kuala Marong would have the same shade that these trees offered.

“Before nightfall, Malfoy,” Potter called. He had already started walking away, and Scorpius was dancing on the spot in impatience at Draco’s dilly-dallying.

“Harry’s so nice!” Scorpius said.

“He just sassed me and you think he’s nice?” Draco muttered.

“Sometimes you need some sassing, Father.”

Draco laughed. “Don’t you get any ideas.”

“I won’t!” Scorpius said, in a tone of voice that clearly meant he was getting plenty of ideas right now. “Why did you never talk about him before?”

Scorpius didn’t know, but Draco _had_ told him about Potter. He told the tale of Harry Potter, his two best friends, Dumbledore’s Army, and the day he vanquished the Dark Lord multiple times to Scorpius throughout his childhood. Of course, it made sense that Scorpius hadn’t made the connection yet - to the kid, Harry Potter sounded like a legend, and besides, Draco had never mentioned Potter by name either. He’d simply been referred to as the Boy Who Lived.

“I must’ve forgotten to mention,” Draco replied.

“Were you friends at school, Father?”

Draco smiled, looking over at where Potter was briskly striding away. “Something like that.”

\--

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky that Draco could see, but he couldn’t appreciate the beautiful clear azure because of how much he was sweating.

“Did you just cast a wandless cooling charm on yourself?” Potter asked, a clear hint of disapproval in his voice.

“There’s those incredible observational skills at work again,” Draco smirked.

The walk to Kuala Marong, according to Potter, typically only took one and a half hours. But with Scorpius stopping to point at every single thing he saw and asking about names of different plants and animals, it was taking forever. Luckily, they’d already passed all three river crossings, and even more luckily, none of them had been at high tide at the time.

“He’s so curious,” Potter said, watching as Scorpius tried to touch a beetle without scaring it off. The look in Potter’s eyes was almost indulgent. “He must be pretty smart.”

“He is,” Draco agreed. “I don’t suppose you have children yourself, Potter?”

Potter started, clearly not having expected the question. “Me? Oh, oh no.” He started to laugh, as though the very thought was amusing to him. “I spend most of my nights in a forest. Not really the ideal dad type.”

“I suppose not,” Draco conceded.

The trees parted ahead of them and they emerged into a large expanse of camping ground, at which point sunlight rushed down to meet them again. There were clusters of colourful tents scattered all throughout the space like vibrant sprigs of flowers, some muddied down from previous adventures and others practically sparkling, as though brand new. There weren’t very many tents, of course, as it wasn’t a holiday for most other people, but there were enough that Draco knew it wouldn’t be quiet here at night.

Behind the flat grounds was a large wooden structure with a blue zinc roof, a rustic bit of backdrop to the tents that littered the scene. Draco almost automatically began to start towards it, longing for a break from the sun and some proper running water.

“You get ten minutes,” Potter said.

Draco stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Ten minutes to pretend you’re not in the woods,” Potter grinned. “We’re only 15 minutes away from our next stop, and it’ll be worth it. I hope you brought something to swim in - or at least, something you won’t mind getting wet.”

“Cryptic,” Draco said, smirking. “Want to use the bathroom, Scorp?”

“It’s cheating to use a bathroom!” Scorpius exclaimed. “We’re in the woods!”

“Just for today. I’m heading there right now.”

“No! Real forests don’t have toilets!”

Draco sighed heavily. “Fine, pee in a bush or something. Don’t go before I’m back.”

“I can take him,” Potter offered.

“It’s fine, I’ll be quick,” Draco said. “Just make sure he doesn’t wander off before then.”

“Suit yourself,” Potter shrugged.

A few minutes later, Draco left the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed and was surprised to see that the sun had hidden itself while he wasn’t outside. Now, it was obscured by greying clouds that suggested rain may be rolling in soon. He hoped it wouldn’t be too heavy. He’d checked weather forecasts prior to their trip and there was supposed to be nothing but sun. Still, he supposed he shouldn’t complain if it meant he’d sweat less.

He rounded a corner to leave the wooden shelter and was greeted by the sight of Scorpius giggling excitedly at something Potter was saying. Potter had a huge smile on his face that mirrored Scorpius’ and was pointing out a kind of plant growing just along the edge of the campsite. The look of awe and amazement on Scorpius’ face made Draco’s heart melt, but it also made him feel oddly wistful.

Draco knew Scorpius deserved more than what he currently had to give. He’d tried to be a good parent after Astoria passed away, but it hadn’t been easy. Overwhelmed with grief, struggling to make sense of the world, and hounded on by his parents, there were times Draco may have been too harsh on the boy. Scorpius didn’t seem to mind - the kid bounced back easily - but Draco regretted the first three months after his wife’s death. The stress of his decision to move away from the UK coupled with the loss of someone he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with made him bitter, closed off, and exhausted. He did his best to treat Scorpius with the love and kindness he deserved, but answering questions about where his mother had gone almost always ended in tears. He wished he had been stronger.

And of course, there had been his parents. They’d never quite approved of Draco’s decision to marry Astoria. Or, at least, they did at first, but when they discovered her progressive ways of thought, her opinions on Wizarding politics, and how she taught Scorpius that he should grow to accept everyone regardless of differences, their glee that Draco had fallen for a woman despite coming out to them as bisexual years prior quickly dissipated. They held their tongues for as long as Astoria was around, but the moment she fell ill, they began to try dissuading Scorpius from what he’d learned.

Draco’s decision to move had certainly been mostly impulsive, but when he caught Scorpius using derogatory language against Muggleborns without realizing what it meant, he confronted his parents and discovered that they’d been trying to make him unlearn every good thing Astoria had taught him. This had only been a week after Astoria passed away, and the betrayal stung and influenced his choice to leave the continent heavily. He kept Scorpius away from his parents from then on. After two months of his mother repeatedly trying to set things right in all the wrong ways and his father constantly berating him for refusing to switch back to their point of view, he grabbed Scorpius, announced that he was leaving, and took off for Malaysia.

Even now, though Draco had reached the point where he could look back fondly on memories of Astoria, date again if he chose to, and shake his head dismissively at his parents’ ways, it still stung and sometimes he had pretty bad days. Besides, anyone who’d ever lost someone dear to them knew that the pain never truly, fully went away - it merely lay dormant, peaceful in the background, a gentle reminder of what once was.

Admittedly, bad days were few and far between now, but the fact remained that he spent a huge chunk of his time indoors, working, while Scorpius had to occupy himself with books and toys. It bothered Draco that, even when he was free from the clutches of grief and his parents’ overbearing nature, he still felt he wasn’t giving enough to his son.

“There you are!” Potter said upon catching sight of him. “Let’s get going, we want to get to Upeh Guling soon.”

“Upeh _what_?” Scorpius asked.

“Guling,” replied Potter. “It means ‘roll’. I’ll explain it when we get there!”

“Had fun with him?” Draco asked Scorpius as Potter rushed off.

“With who?”

“With…” Draco swallowed his pride and spat out the name. “Harry.” It wasn’t the first time Draco had said the name without malice or spite, but that was only because Harry was such a common first name that he’d met a couple people he referred to as Harry over the years. Still, there was no need for the name to feel this foreign in his mouth, and yet it did.

“Oh! Yeah, Harry’s awesome!” Scorpius exclaimed. “He knows so much about plants and stuffs.”

“He’s very good at his job,” Draco allowed. “If you work hard, you can know that much too.”

Scorpius nodded. “I’ll be the smartest forest guide in the world!”

“That you will, Scorp,” Draco said. He looked up and saw that Potter had stopped to wait for them and was watching him carefully.

“I know I’m attractive, Potter,” Draco smirked. “But there’s no need to stare, it’s embarrassing.”

Potter shook his head. “I wasn’t staring because you’re attractive, I was staring because your head seems at least five sizes too big for your body.”

Draco snorted. Scorpius was giggling again, so Draco ruffled his hair.

“Actually,” Potter conceded. “I was just thinking, this is such a surreal sight.”

“What is?”

“Draco Malfoy, being a good father.”

Draco couldn’t control the flush suddenly rising to his face. “I -” He heard himself start to stammer and quickly stopped himself, took a deep breath, and tried again. “I only try my best.”

“Several years ago, I never would’ve thought to see selflessness or kindness out of you,” Potter said.

Scorpius looked up at Draco curiously. “What does he mean, Father?”

“We all make mistakes, Scorp,” Draco said. “And we all learn from them.”

Potter laughed. “ _And_ he’s sprouting wisdom, too! Are you sure you’re Draco Malfoy?”

Draco smirked. “Several years ago, I never would’ve thought to hear a compliment out of you.” Or see him this happy, for that matter. “Yet here we are.”

Potter looked at him oddly then, and there was something about the expression in his eyes that made Draco’s heart flip. So many times over the course of the 24 hours alone, he’d had a strange reaction to something Potter did or said, and he couldn’t understand why. Was it the nervousness of seeing his old rival again? Surprise at meeting someone he knew so far from home? Or…

Potter had taken a step closer, and the look in his bright green eyes was almost heart-stopping now. “Malfoy…” he began.

Just then, Scorpius, who had been poking a rock on the ground, leapt up and began to dance from side to side in restlessness. “Can we go to the rolling place now?”

As though awoken from a trance, Potter took a step back. Draco did, too, although he wasn’t sure why. There were so many things Draco didn’t know, and it was going to drive him mad before long.

“Let’s go then!” Potter said, and with that, he led the way off into the woods again. Up above them, the sun reappeared from behind its cloud cover, and down on earth, Draco couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more surprises in store for him yet.

\--

The Upeh Guling Waterfalls weren’t particularly majestic, but what they lacked in outstanding beauty they made up for in surprising uniqueness. The waterfall itself was a cascading stream pouring over four tiers, while the rest of the river that it filled was marked with multiple structures that almost resembled bathtubs carved out of rock. It was as though years of water had eroded the rocks so they had holes in them big enough for a person to sit comfortably in. Some even had space inside them, so you could literally sit inside the rocks.

The sun was peeking out from the clouds, taking turns between coming out in full force and retreating back to its hiding place. When it showed its face, the beams glinted off the falling water rushing at their ankles and glared in Draco’s eye. When it became covered, the shadows that suddenly fell over the waterfall area made it feel somewhat eerie, yet still serene.

“These whirlpools are what we like to call bathtubs,” Potter said.

“I thought that’s what they appeared similar to,” Draco cut in.

“Well, yes, that’s why we called them that, see,” Potter replied scathingly. “We wouldn’t have called them showerheads, now, would we?”

“Isn’t it exhausting being that sassy, Potter?”

“It’s never exhausting to get on your nerves, Malfoy.” He hurriedly moved on before Draco could retort. “Anyway, these whirlpools are actually formed in ancient volcanic rocks. These are the oldest existing natural landmarks in all of Malaysia - they’re about 240 million years old!”

Draco had to admit, that was pretty impressive.

Scorpius wrinkled his nose as he went into deep thought. “That’s… very old. That’s at least ten times your age, Father!”

Draco grimaced uncomfortably. “Again, you might be… off by a few multipliers.”

Potter seemed to be enjoying Draco’s disgruntlement a little too much. “Don’t worry, Scorpius, old people like your father sometimes forget how to have fun.”

“You are literally the same age as me, you insufferable git,” Draco snapped.

Potter grinned. “Let me tell you the story of Upeh Guling and how this place got its name.” He made an exaggerated, big movement with his arms that Draco interpreted as meaning to be majestic but failing somewhere halfway through. “Are you ready?”

Draco wanted to chide him to get on with it, but upon seeing Scorpius’ enchanted expression, he held his tongue.

“Alright!” Potter began. “Many, many years ago, in this very forest, there lived a man named Upeh. Now, Upeh was living a wonderful life, and he was engaged to be married to a beautiful bride.”

“Was she really beautiful and smart?” Scorpius asked, sounding in awe, even though the story had just begun.

“Oh yes, definitely!” Potter agreed. “Now, one day, Upeh was walking on top of this waterfall, trying to safely get across the strong current of the river. That’s when he spotted his incredible fiancée on the other side of the river, and he knew he had to get to her as quickly as possible. So, being very careless, he started to hurry to her.”

“And then they united and lived happily ever after?” Scorpius chirped.

Potter opened his mouth to continue, but then closed it again, his smile turning to a frown. “Err, no. In his carelessness, he slipped and fell, and he went rolling down the waterfall and into the river beneath - the river we now stand in. He passed a-” Potter cut himself off then and looked down at Scorpius, whose eyes seemed to have grown big as saucers in his anticipation.

“He passed what?” Scorpius asked.

“He… umm…” Potter started up again. “It was very funny and his fiancée laughed about it, and she told all of the villagers, so they decided to name the place Upeh Guling, because ‘guling’ means ‘roll’ and he very harmlessly rolled down the hill!”

Scorpius pouted. “You’re lying! That’s not how it ends! You made that up right now!”

“I, uh…” Potter quickly looked to Draco for help.

Draco found this very amusing. Sometimes, adults had a tendency to forget that, as children, many of them had been fascinated by the gross, grotesque, and strange. “Go on, tell him.”

Potter nodded. “Right. Okay, so, the truth is, when Upeh fell down the waterfall, he passed away. The villagers then named the waterfalls after him and his… err… careless rolling, and today we know it as Upeh Guling.”

Scorpius perked up considerably upon hearing the true ending of the legend. “He was so careless because of love! That’s silly!”

“Well, many people do silly things for love,” Draco said, ruffling his son’s hair.

“Did you do silly things for Mother, Father?” Scorpius asked.

Draco felt Potter’s eyes watching him carefully at this question. “Lots and lots of silly things,” Draco told Scorpius. “More than I can count.” He coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, Potter, now what?”

If Potter had any thoughts about what Draco had just said, he didn’t share them. “Now we get to swimming! Take your shirts off if you want to, and dive right in!”

Scorpius looked up at Draco. “Can I, Father?”

Draco nodded, and Scorpius shucked off his shirt and ran straight into the peaceful, calm waters. It was very shallow, barely any depth to it at all, and the water only came up to Scorpius’ shoulders.

Draco turned to Potter to say something to him but found that the man was quickly ridding himself of his own shirt, too. He tried to avert his eyes as Potter hooked his hands under his shirt and lifted it overhead, but he suddenly found himself staring rather embarrassingly. Potter had always been lithe and lean, but now there was some added muscle definition over his chest and stomach. There was also a thin trail of hair leading down from beneath his belly button that Draco was having difficulty tearing his eyes away from.

“Something the matter, Malfoy?”

Draco hurriedly looked up to see Potter staring inquisitively at him. He tried not to allow a flush to creep onto his face when he realized he’d been caught, but thankfully, although Potter was definitely less oblivious than he once was, he wasn’t anything close to actually being observant.

“No, of course not,” Draco said. “I’m merely not sure I want to disrobe in the middle of this place.”

“You don’t have to,” Potter supplied. “As long as you’re cool with getting your clothes wet.”

Draco wasn’t cool with that. He sighed and, trying not to feel too self-conscious, divested himself of his shirt and tossed it aside - but not before he reached into his pocket, took his wand out, and muttered an incantation.

“What did you just do?” Potter asked, glaring at him. “Is the spirit of roughing it not good enough for you?”

“It’s a sun-blocking charm, Potter,” Draco snapped. “Not all of us tan, you know. Some of us burn.”

“I always thought you might be part vampire,” Potter teased.

Draco ignored him and waded into the water. It was surprisingly cool despite the blazing of the sun above, and it felt like a wave of relief over the sweat on his heated skin.

There was a loud splash and Draco turned to see that Potter had practically dashed into the water and was grinning like a little kid. Scorpius was giggling and rushing to meet him, kicking up water into Potter’s face as he went. There was something infectious about their combined enthusiasm, and Draco couldn’t help wondering if he found it charming or was just losing his head.

Potter flashed him a smile, and Draco realized he’d been caught staring again. Fortunately, Potter still hadn’t quite noticed that his glances had anything more than a casual meaning. Draco found he didn’t feel just relief at Potter’s lack of observance, but some frustration, as well.

“What are you standing around for, Malfoy?” Potter grinned. “You’ve never known how to have any fun!”

Draco gritted his teeth. _Don’t let him rile you up, don’t let him rile you up, don’t let…_

It was too late. Draco had let it rile him up, and that familiar feeling that came with their rivalry back in the day resurfaced. Determined to show Potter that he did know how to have fun, he glanced around to make sure no Muggle were around and then wandlessly used magic to send an extremely strong wave of water crashing right into Potter’s face.

Potter stumbled backwards, coughing, and Scorpius’ laughter got much louder at the sight.

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Potter said, recovering far too quickly from Draco’s assault. It was Draco’s turn to be suddenly hit by a rush of clear water. He nearly lost his balance completely in surprise. He’d forgotten, for a moment, just how strong Potter’s magical ability really was.

Suddenly, there was a huge splash of water that washed over both Draco and Potter, knocking them off their feet and onto their sides. Spluttering, Draco’s grip on his wand tightened automatically as he turned to the source of the wave. Standing there was Scorpius, still giggling, his hands ever so subtly controlling the current of the water beneath him in a manner that seemed very unintentional.

Beside Draco, still lying in the shallow water, Potter’s mouth had dropped open in shock.

“Is he… supposed to be able to do that?” Potter half-whispered.

Draco tried to look nonchalant, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going very well. “He’s rather… strong for his age.”

Scorpius was running around in the middle of the small body of water now, and small amounts of water were floating around him in globules, as though gravity had stopped having any effect on them.

“Potter,” Draco said quietly.

Potter was still staring at Scorpius in awe, but he shook himself to look at Draco. Draco was struck by how… attractive the man looked like this, with his hair wet and even messier than normal, and his eyes filled with a sense of surprise and wonder that was somehow tangible from here. “Yeah?”

It was Draco’s turn to try and shake himself so he would stop thinking of Potter in these odd ways. When he and Scorpius were through with this trip, he really needed to get back into the dating scene so he didn’t keep thinking of old rivals as _attractive._ “You don’t think any Muggles will be coming here, do you?” He cast a meaningful look towards Scorpius, whose actions were still very much going against everything Muggles knew about physics.

Potter took a second to get what he meant. “Oh, right. No, no tours to Upeh Guling are scheduled for the day as far as I know.”

Draco heaved a relieved sigh. “Then, I suppose, this is fine for now.”

When Potter spoke again, there was something extra, some additional layer to the meaning in his words that made his voice slightly tremble. Draco couldn’t think what it was. “Yes,” Potter said. “This is fine.”

\--

Evening came swiftly and they returned to Kuala Marong for the night. They ate a quick meal of _nasi lemak_ \- perhaps a rather odd choice for dinner fare, but sufficient nonetheless - and then sat around a large, long dining table with some other campers to partake in drinks. No alcohol, of course, as that was _haram_ and not stocked by the park - but nice, cool drinks of iced Milo, iced lime, and iced syrup and some steaming hot tea and _teh tarik_ on the side for those interested. Draco couldn’t think why anyone would need more hot drinks when the humidity levels were reaching this height, but many seemed to enjoy them regardless. Were they all secretly Magic folk who had cooling charms on?

Scorpius had run off to join some of the kids on the camping grounds, and Draco had his watchful eye on the young boy as Potter chatted with the other campers. He’d originally attempted to hold the conversation in English, but once he’d realized Draco wasn’t quite paying attention to what was going on anyway, he’d switched to his impressively fluent Malay.

It was easy enough to discern his language from that of the local campers. The locals had the pronunciation down to fluidity, while Potter’s accent crept into a lot of his words. Still, there was something about the way Potter was speaking that made Draco’s skin feel… tingly, almost. He wondered if he had internalized problematic ideals that romanticized certain accents in ethnic dialects over the accents they naturally came with and made a mental note to work on that - not just because it was problematic, but also so he could stop feeling this way about Harry bloody Potter’s speech.

As campers began to disperse for the night, a familiar person joined them at the table.

“Nice to see you, Hui Ying,” Potter said, raising his plastic cup full of tea as she sat down. Draco’s memory registered that she was the other tour guide he’d met a day ago in the information hut.

“You too, Harry,” Hui Ying replied. She slid into the bench opposite them and smiled at Draco as she helped herself to some iced lime. Her teeth were very white and straight. “I don’t think I introduced myself properly. I’m Hui Ying.”

“Draco,” Draco said to her, reaching out to shake her hand. She took it. Her handshake was almost unnervingly firm.

“How has the catch up been going?” Hui Ying asked. “You said you knew each other before? From school?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Draco replied. “We weren’t quite friends back then, though, were we, Potter?”

Harry flashed him a smile, and Draco was once again struck by how good happiness looked on him. “Definitely not, Malfoy.”

“Do I sense some tension?” Hui Ying downed her cup in one gulp, put it down on the table, and smiled sweetly at them. “What’s the story here?”

“We just never really got along,” Potter said. “Not very much of a story.”

“Quite boring,” Draco admitted. “We strove to make each other’s lives miserable.”

“What do you mean, _we_? That’s all on you, Malfoy.”

“How, pray tell, is it all on me?”

“You tried to get me expelled, sought me out to make fun of me, and broke my sodding nose.”

“And you, Potter, slashed open my chest and stalked me for an entire year.”

Hui Ying spoke up then. “You slashed open his chest, Harry? I didn’t take you for the homicidal type.”

Potter turned red. “I - no, that’s not what -” He cut himself off and sighed. “Look, so we weren’t exactly friends.”

“An understatement,” Draco said.

“Rivals, then.”

“I’d say ‘enemies’ is an apt way to describe it.”

“You holding grudges, Malfoy?”

“I would never dream of it, Potter. After all, weren’t we all teenagers once, high on hormones and our own egos?”

“Poetic,” Hui Ying said.

“See, what you call poetic, I call pretentious bullshit,” Potter chimed in.

“That’s another way to put it,” Hui Ying smiled. Her eyes flickered between the two men, her interest clearly piqued by something. “But now, have those roles flipped?”

“What roles?” Potter asked.

“Enemies. Rivals. Frenemies. Whatever.” Hui Ying crossed her arms and sent them both a dangerous smirk. She’d fit right in at Hogwarts if she’d been sorted into Slytherin. “Are you now… more?”

Draco nearly choked on his Milo and had to take a gulping breath to prevent coughing up a storm. As he struggled to breathe, Potter, oblivious as ever, spoke again. “More?”

“Oh, don’t make me spell it out, Harry,” Hui Ying laughed.

Draco felt like he should cut in at this point, but he was distracted by the hilarity of Potter’s face slowly morphing from confusion into dawning realization.

“What? More? Oh Mer - I mean, oh God, no,” Potter said quickly. “Hui Ying, this is our first time seeing each other in, what? A decade? And besides, isn’t that - you know, two men, in this country -”

“Relax, Harry,” Hui Ying smiled. “I was only teasing.” She poured herself more iced lime. It didn’t seem like she was only teasing at all. There was a rather devilish look in her eyes, but she still seemed quite good-natured. Draco wasn’t sure whether to have his guard up or not. “Besides, you should know - though it is technically illegal, and people can be so stupid and regressive…” She took a sip of her drink. “There’s a thriving LGBT community here. So if you’re gay -”

“Pan, actually,” Potter interrupted.

Draco really did choke on his drink this time. He began sputtering and hacking as Potter stared at him in bewilderment. By the time he resurfaced, he knew he was red in the face.

Hui Ying inclined her head and carried on the conversation as though nothing had happened. “Or pan,” she conceded, glancing quickly at Draco out of the corner of her eye. “You will have the support of members of the community.”

“That’s… good to know,” Potter said slowly. “Err, you alright, Malfoy?”

“Peachy,” Draco said, forcing a smile.

“Right.” Potter returned his attention to Hui Ying. “Anyway, the point is, Ying, we’re not… anything. We’ve literally just met again for the first time in ages.”

“My mistake,” Hui Ying smiled. Again, it was a very sweet smile that clearly hid something behind it. “I thought I saw a connection between you two. I’ve always been quite gifted at that.”

“Everyone’s wrong sometimes,” Draco cut in.

Potter looked at him like he’d gone mad, but Hui Ying’s eyebrows raised in surprise and her body language, which had been neutral up until now, began to exude warmth. “This is true,” she said. “But I find that I seldom am.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Draco retorted.

“Perhaps you’re discounting the fact that I may know things you don’t.”

“Interesting. Knowledge is power. But you could be bluffing.”

“Do I look like the kind of person who bluffs, Draco?”

“Actually, yes, you do.”

Potter groaned. “Great, now there’s two of you pretentious bastards.”

Hui Ying took another sip of her iced lime. “Maybe you’d want to change the subject, Draco, for Harry’s sake.”

Draco obliged. “Are you here with people for a guided tour, too?”

“Oh, no!” Hui Ying trilled. “The tour I talked about yesterday was a one night thing. It’s actually my day off.”

Draco cocked an eyebrow. “It’s your day off, and you chose to spend it in the same forest that is, essentially, where you spend your entire working life?”

Hui Ying shrugged. “Why not? I like the forest.”

Draco leaned back and looked from her to Potter. “Is everyone working here doing so to leave the world behind and escape some tragic past?”

This seemed like something Potter was comfortable talking about again, and he chuckled. “No, not really.”

“Most of the guides are quite well-adjusted,” Hui Ying added.

“It’s basically just us,” Potter finished.

“I can’t believe you people,” Draco muttered.

Potter put down his cup. It sounded hollow, and he stood up. “Alright, I’m going to go see if they’ve got more tea inside.”

As he walked off, Hui Ying stood up, too.

“Leaving already?” Draco asked. “Just here for Potter, then?”

Hui Ying smirked at him. “He’s all yours, loverboy.”

Draco shot her a similar smirk. “You heard the man. We’ve only just met again.”

“Of course,” Hui Ying said, but it didn’t sound like she was conceding in any way. “Again, my mistake.” She began to walk off. “See you around, Draco.”

Draco leaned forward, resting his face in one hand as he watched curiously as Hui Ying paced away. What was it that she knew that made her make all these strange and frankly embarrassing suggestions?

That’s when Draco heard Scorpius’ shouts.

“I’m _not_ stupid!”

Draco turned to see Scorpius surrounded by a group of local kids. He hurried over to hear the children talking among themselves in Malay, giggling.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” Draco asked, putting on a voice he hoped was intimidating.

Behind him, footsteps approached. Potter was running over to see what was going on.

“They called me stupid coz I don’t speak like them!” Scorpius wailed.

The parents of the local children were rushing in too, muttering apologies and chastising their children for being rude and impolite. At least, that was what Draco assumed they were doing, as he couldn’t really understand what they were saying - but somehow, the scolding tone was pretty universal.

Just then, a sharp breeze began to whirl around Draco, almost like a mini tornado. The grass was beginning to blow back and forth, and the air had somehow grown noticeably cooler and warmer at the same time.

“Scorpius?” Draco said, trying to keep his voice calm as his eyes darted around the area. The Muggles nearby hadn’t caught wind of what was happening exactly, but some were looking over curiously because of Scorpius’ outburst, and it wouldn’t be long before they noticed the strange wind movements centred around his son.

“Why are they so mean to me?” Scorpius sobbed.

Draco went to bundle up the young boy in his arms, but he found that he was being pushed away by some invisible barrier. Had he been this strong at this age? He didn’t think so, but if he had been, he’d need to write an apology letter to his mother.

“Scorpius,” Draco said again. “Scorpius, look at me.”

“I’m not stupid!” Scorpius shouted.

“No, you’re not,” Draco replied. The wind was picking up speed. Behind him, Potter was coming closer. Draco held up a hand to indicate that he should stay back. Mercifully, he obeyed. “Listen, Scorpius. Look at me. Look at Father.”

Scorpius finally stopped screwing up his eyes tight and looked up at Draco. “I just wanted - I just -”

“I know, son,” Draco soothed. “People can be very, very mean sometimes, and that is not your fault. It’s okay to be angry and sad about it, and it’s okay to think they’re wrong, okay? Are you angry, Scorpius? Are you mad at them?”

Scorpius nodded. The wind was slowing down, but he still looked like he was on the verge of a tantrum.

“It’s good to talk about why you’re mad,” Draco said. “But do you want to know a secret about bullies?”

Scorpius nodded again. Draco could feel the tension radiating off of Potter in waves from where he stood, a few feet behind him.

“They say mean things because they want a reaction,” Draco told Scorpius. “They want the attention they’ll get from being mean, because they’re awful. And until we can stop all bullies in the world, we can starve them of their satisfaction, can’t we?”

The barrier was no longer there. Draco could now take some steps towards Scorpius. He was so close.

“You can come to me and cry and rant,” Draco said softly. “Or you can go somewhere for you to be alone so you can do so in peace and privacy. Don’t those sound like better options, Scorp?”

Scorpius nodded one final time. The wind halted completely.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Scorpius, Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief. At least, for now, one crisis was averted.

\--

Later, Draco emerged from his tent after putting an emotionally exhausted Scorpius to bed. It had been easier, this time, and he fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow. He found Potter standing outside, almost as though he was waiting for him.

 _Waiting for me._ The thought sent a thrill down Draco’s spine. He didn’t quite want to think about why, but a part of him knew. There was something about the man that made Draco feel… well. A way he hadn’t felt in a long time. It wouldn’t do to think about it now.

“He really is strong for his age, isn’t he?” Potter said conversationally. “He might be the next Dumbledore.”

Draco snorted. “The next manipulator, using young children for his grand schemes? I certainly hope not.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Draco allowed. “But the way you spoke about him in all your interviews…”

“I just didn’t want to stir up trouble,” Potter replied.

“You sounded as though you liked him so much, you’d name your kids after him,” Draco sneered.

“I would never,” Potter laughed. “Then again, I’ve never been that good at coming up with names.”

There was a pause. Then, Potter spoke once more.

“You’ve read my interviews?”

“Everyone did,” Draco said nonchalantly. “You were all the papers would talk about. Those were the headlines, so I read them.” He deliberately left out the bit about how he’d been incredibly curious about Potter’s life after the War and had always looked for these articles with interest.

Potter waved off his explanation, changing the subject. “You know,” he began. “You handled that well.”

“What?”

“Scorpius. The tantrum thingy.”

Draco squared his shoulders. “You have to handle it well, or as best as you can.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but you…” Potter broke off and laughed.

“What?”

“You really are a bloody fantastic father, aren’t you?”

There was nothing Draco could do to stop the blush overwhelming his face right then. “It’s not the first time you’ve said this, Potter. Are you accustomed to having to have revelations many times before you register them?”

To Draco’s surprise, this only made Potter laugh more.

“What’s so funny, Potter?”

“You are.”

“Me? Surely you know insults do not quite suffice as jokes.”

“I might be unobservant -”

“The understatement of the century,” Draco muttered.

“- but I’m not entirely stupid,” Potter finished, ignoring his interruption. “And I think it’s funny that you use sarcasm and insults to cover up any happiness you get from a compliment.”

There was absolutely nothing that Draco could think to say to that. He opened and closed his mouth, but continued to draw a blank. His brain felt like it was swirling. He wanted to blame it on the heat getting to him, but now that night had arrived it was actually quite cool out, and there wasn’t anything else that he could use as an excuse for how much Potter affected him, and what the man made him feel.

What did he make him feel, anyway? Draco found he didn’t want to think about it.

“Is the smart-arse at a loss for words?” Potter teased.

The jibe sent Draco out of his daze. “I thought the best way to end the conversation was by ignoring you, Potter,” he said.

Potter grinned. He hesitated, then spoke slowly. “It’s… Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name. Harry. You can use it.”

“Why mess with a good thing?” Draco asked.

“What we called each other was born out of rivalry,” Potter replied. “And… I don’t want us to be rivals anymore, do you?”

No, Draco definitely didn’t. But he wasn’t sure what he wanted them to be, either. “Fine,” Draco said.

“You’ll call me Harry?”

“I’ll call you whatever you want if you get that shit-eating look off your face.”

The shit-eating look in question only increased in prominence. “Anything, huh?”

“No. Never mind. Forget I said that. You get Harry, that’s it.”

“Good call,” Potter… no, Harry said. “Good call, Draco.”

Draco had never heard his name said quite like that before. At least, he didn’t think he had. It didn’t sound different in any obvious way. The pronunciation was just fine, the emphasis on the right syllable, each sound enunciated clearly. But there was something more to it. These were dangerous things to think about, Draco realized. He made himself stop thinking about them.

“Ignoring me again?” Harry joked.

“I’m surprised you got the hint at all.”

Harry laughed. He sounded more cheerful than the last few times he’d done so. Draco mulled over whether it was weird that he had a collection of memories of Harry’s laughs in his head and decided it definitely was.

“Get some sleep, Draco,” Harry said. “Long trek tomorrow.”

He started to walk away. Draco told himself to let him go, but his mouth got ahead of his brain. “Hey. Harry.”

Harry turned back. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Draco thought for a moment that Harry might ask why he was being thanked, but he didn’t.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”


	4. Day Three

The third day spent in Endau-Rompin was very calm compared to its predecessors. For starters, it wasn’t nearly as hot, and there was some wind blowing through the trees, rustling leaves and whistling gently as they blew clouds over the sun above. That didn’t mean Draco didn’t cast a silent Cooling Charm over himself when Harry wasn’t looking, of course. (Harry noticed, but grumbled and decided not to tell him off.)

They started with a trek to Tasik Air Biru, otherwise known as Blue-Water Lake, and even Draco couldn’t deny that it was breathtaking. The water was stunningly calm, appearing a bright, beautiful blue that seemed like it had been torn straight out of one of those animated shows Scorpius loved so much. According to Harry, the reason for this exquisite sight was the way the sun cast its beaming reflection against the rounded, white rocks that sat languidly at the bed of the lake. Even in the cloudy weather, the blue stood out, making Draco feel like he was inside one of the stories his mother would read to him when he was young.

They waded in the shallow waters of the lake for a while before moving on to a more intense nature hike. Scorpius had eagerly asked if they might see a tiger, but Harry said tiger sightings were very rare and you had a better chance of running into the Sultan than a tiger. Scorpius didn’t take too well to that news, but he perked back up again when they happened upon a herd of elephants chilling out in a wide open space. They maintained a respectful distance as the large, majestic creatures drank, ate, and played. Draco wondered how animals so large could be so graceful.

Draco hadn’t expected that there would be so many interesting plants scattered all around the forest. Harry could name each and every single one, and Draco had to admit that he was very impressed. He’d never really doubted Harry’s intelligence, even back at Hogwarts - he clearly wasn’t someone who made it a habit to read and study like Draco did, but he was a capable and smart student who made it work regardless. Still, being able to effectively memorize the appearance, scientific and common names, and interesting facts about each plant was amazing to Draco - especially since many of those facts involved numbers and statistics. 

Was there no limit to what the great Harry Potter was capable of? Even as Draco bitterly thought this out of reflex from his schooling days, he knew there was plenty Harry couldn’t do, just as there was plenty Draco couldn’t do. But Harry’s drive and determination when he was interested in something made him shockingly… dare Draco say… sexy?

They trekked on for what felt like years to Draco’s exhausted legs, and even the coolness of the air around them and the cloudiness of the white sky above wasn’t quite enough to stop him from sweating profusely. A few Cooling Charms more did the trick, and Harry bristled more and more each time he noticed Draco casting one, and Draco could never resist trying to get a rise out of him.

As they walked, Draco couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering around Harry’s back as he led the way. All of Harry’s clothes were almost ridiculously baggy and oversized, but they suited him. Draco had a feeling that if he himself wore anything that much larger than his actual frame, he’d look at least ten times less attractive than he thought he looked now, which was already not particularly much. Somehow, Harry made his looks work, and Draco hated that he knew Harry put exactly zero effort into what he wore and still came out looking like, well,  _ that _ . 

What, exactly, was  _ that _ ? Draco didn’t know, but as he watched Harry laughing and smiling, chatting with Scorpius and indulging everything the young boy said, and excitedly talking about the Livistona endauensis plant (“It’s an amazing species of giant fan plant, and you can literally only find it here right in this park, nowhere else in the entire world!”), Draco realized that he had clear… feelings for Harry.

And what were those feelings? Draco had no idea. He wanted to spend time with Harry, be with him and talk to him and learn more about his past and how he ended up here. He wanted to get drinks with him and reminisce about old days as they traded banter back and forth, insulting each other with no bad intentions behind each cutting word. And he wanted - maybe, just maybe - to hold his hand, or brush up against his shoulder, or even lean in and… 

“Here we are!”

Draco stopped short and looked around. This part of the woods didn’t look very distinguishable from the rest of it, but the fact that the ground wasn’t too heavily covered in rock and grass meant it probably was the best place to camp out.

Together, the three worked together to set up their tents, Scorpius doing as much as he could by whacking a peg in place with a rock that may be a bit too heavy for him as Draco and Harry did the more strenuous work, talking and snickering as they went. When they finished, Draco couldn’t help marvelling at how well his tent was set up this time compared to the previous two nights. For once, it wasn’t slanted on one side, and it looked almost identical to Harry’s apart from a few defects. 

“Nice work,” Harry smiled, and the compliment mixed with his grin nearly set Draco’s whole stomach aflutter. 

And that was when the storm rolled in.

The thing about Malaysian weather - and what always caught Draco off-guard about it, even after years spent here - was how quickly changeable it was. He’d once walked into a 7-Eleven with Scorpius to buy ice cream on a very sunny day, only to find that the weather had somehow switched to pouring rain while they were inside as they went to leave.

Sure, the day today had been cloudy and not nearly as hot as the previous days, but it hadn’t been even close to overcast, and weather forecasts hadn’t shown any rain at all for these five days. Yet, all of a sudden, there was a light patter of rainfall, and within seconds it was pouring violently and thunder was cracking in the sky. 

Scorpius screamed in terror. Draco hurried to lean down and hug him to console him, wincing as cold rain splattered against his skin. It was doing wonders for the sweatiness from the long trek, but after all this time spent nearly melting every day, the icy water was a shock to his senses.

Meanwhile, Harry whipped out his wand and muttered an unintelligible spell. Draco detected a brief shimmer of magic as a transparent dome spread out above them, shielding them and their entire camping ground from the rain as it fell overhead. The dome slowly seemed to solidify, then it turned completely invisible. Draco suddenly found himself no longer being showered by beating droplets, and his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin. 

“I thought you disapproved of using magic,” Draco said accusingly.

“This seems like a good time to break the rule, don’t you think?” Harry replied scathingly. 

There was another shocking flash of lightning, almost blinding in its intensity. Scorpius screamed again.

“I’m so sorry, the weather forecast showed clear skies this whole week,” Harry said. “There’s a shelter nearby here that we use for emergencies like this, there should be a few staff members manning the station right now -”

“We can’t,” Draco whispered. His voice barely carried over the rain, the thunder, and Scorpius’ repeated wails.

“What? Why the bloody hell not? Camping out in storms is ridiculously dangerous, and just because I can make storm-safe barriers for us -”

“Look,” Draco hissed. He pointed upwards, to the trees above them. Scorpius’ tantrum was thoroughly shaking several of the trees in unnatural ways. The branches were crashing up and down, and one was beginning to crack.

“Fuck,” Harry swore.

“Language,” Draco snapped, throwing a glance at Scorpius, who was still cowering in his arms and shouting at the top of his lungs. It was amazing how loudly his voice resonated against the rain, and it was likely that Harry could swear as much as he damn well pleased and Scorpius wouldn’t hear a thing.

“If we get him to the shelter, will he calm down enough not to do things like this?” Harry asked.

“No,” Draco replied. His voice was straining as the noises from the storm became increasingly loud. “No! It takes him ages to relax after storms!”

Scorpius let out a more piercing noise than he had before, and above them, a large branch broke off with a loud crack. Draco glanced upwards and watched as the broken branch defied gravity for a split moment, swaying upwards as though about to hurl itself into the sky, before it crashed down over the barrier Harry had installed.

“Will that hold?” Draco asked, wincing. 

“Don’t worry, it will,” Harry said back. 

Draco wanted to do something, but he was preoccupied with shielding Scorpius as much as he could, and Scorpius was gripping his arms so tightly they were starting to hurt. Draco could feel his nails digging into his skin.

Harry waved his wand and muttered something else, and it fell mercifully silent. Well, not entirely silent - the pounding rain and dramatic thunder could still faintly be heard, but it was severely muffled and sounded more like calming white noise.

For a moment, Scorpius peered out from behind Draco’s arms, and he seemed to begin to calm - but then lightning flashed once more and he cried out and rushed to go back to hiding. Ahead of them, a tree toppled over and smashed brutally onto the ground beneath it.

“He’s got to be the most powerful eight-year-old wizard of all time,” Harry muttered.

Now that Draco could be easily heard again, he tried speaking gently to his son. “Hey. Scorp. It’s okay now, Harry put a big magic force field here and nothing can get through it. Like that girl from the… err… fabulous… no, fearsome… no, uh…”

“Fantastic Four,” Harry supplied helpfully.

“Yes, like the girl from the Fantastic Four,” Draco said quickly. “So everything outside is messy and scary, but in here we’re always safe. See?”

He gingerly released Scorpius and pointed. Scorpius looked around slowly, taking in the absence of rain within the barrier and noting the silence that surrounded them. When lightning flashed once more, he only shrank away and hid his eyes in his hands for a second before looking out again.

“All good?” Draco asked.

“All good,” Scorpius said. His voice was soft and shaking, but he was trying to be brave. Draco remembered how much of a coward he himself had been when he was Scorpius’ age and figured he had to have gotten it all from his mother. 

“Do you reckon we can make it to the shelter?” Harry asked.

“We’re not exposing Scorpius to the storm again,” Draco snapped. He didn’t mean to be snippy, but the distress Scorpius had been in had put him in a state of anxious alertness.

“Alright, then we’ll camp here for the night,” Harry said. “No one else should be coming this way because of the storm.”

As Harry walked around double-checking the security of his barriers, Draco smiled at Scorpius. “Let’s get you dried off.” He whipped out his wand and waved it around in a motion he’d always found ridiculously complex when he was younger, and soon Scorpius’ clothes were no longer awkwardly stuck to his pale skin and some colour was rushing back to his cheeks from warmth.

“T-thank you,” Scorpius stammered.

“You’re welcome,” Draco replied. “Do you want to go into your tent so you can’t see the rain?”

Scorpius nodded.

“Off you go then,” Draco smiled. Scorpius hurried off. Just as Draco began to stand, he felt a sudden warm feeling running over his body and his clothes unpeeled themselves from his back and chest, mercifully loosening around his frame. He turned to see Harry stowing his wand away, smiling.

“You need to take care of yourself too, you know,” Harry said.

Draco had half a mind to make a snarky remark, but at the last minute, his mouth decided to change his prepared phrase to something… more honest than he meant it to be. “I forget, often.”

Harry started to speak, stopped as though considering something, and started again. “Maybe you need someone to hang around and remind you.”

The implications of what Harry was saying… Draco didn’t want to read into it. He was probably just being polite, after all. “I should check on Scorpius,” he said, quickly turning to walk away. Whatever this was turning into, it was far too frightening to bother with now. He resolved that, once he got Scorpius to sleep, he would stay in his tent all night and avoid Harry until the strange, blooming sensation in his gut went away. Yes, that was probably the prudent decision to make.

\--

The storm was still raging, muffled in the background, when Draco stepped out of his tent, berating himself the entire time as he went. He’d sung a quiet lullaby to Scorpius to lull him to sleep, and although he knew he should lie himself down and get some sleep, too, he’d seen Harry’s silhouette sitting by the fire outside. Before he even knew what he was doing, his body was moving out of the tent, even as his brain screamed in warning.

Harry looked up as Draco paced over. The way the warm, orange glow of the fire played against his slim features was oddly ethereal. “He asleep?”

“Out like a light,” Draco replied. He wondered where he should sit. He longed to be next to Harry, but something told him that would be dangerous, so he sat himself down on the other side of the fire from the Gryffindor.

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” Harry said after a moment of silence.

“I -” Draco hadn’t thought Harry would have been able to hear him. “Thank you.”

“What song were you singing?”

Draco furrowed his brow. “To be honest, I don’t know. It’s an old tune his mother used to sing.”

Harry’s expression changed very slightly when Draco mentioned the word ‘mother’. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Harry said. “Where is she now?”

On instinct, almost, Draco looked to the sky, as though he thought Astoria could hear what was going on. The incoming rain flooding overhead and stopping just a few feet above his head to glide along the barrier created a very strange optical effect.

“She passed away,” he replied, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. It wasn’t that he hadn’t moved on - he had - but he would always miss her, always feel that sting from losing someone he loved, always remember how her passing changed his entire world.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “She must have been wonderful.” 

Draco smiled. “She really, really was. A much better person and parent than me, too.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m sure you’re just being modest. I doubt she’d want you to think of yourself like that.”

“She wouldn’t, no. But I can’t help it.”

Draco wondered if Harry would say something wise - though that would be rather out of character for him - but he didn’t speak at first. Instead, he looked up to the sky where Draco’s gaze still lingered.

“Is that why you moved here?” he finally said.

“Partly,” Draco admitted. “Mostly, actually.”

“Why else?”

“My parents. They’re… difficult to deal with, sometimes. Rather conservative in many ways, and painfully traditional at times.” He sighed, then dropped his glance from the oncoming rain batting at the barrier Harry had created to meet Harry’s eyes instead. The man looked… sympathetic? No, he did not look like he pitied Draco. Instead, it looked like he… empathized. Understood, almost, or wanted to.

“Do you miss them?” Harry asked.

“Certainly,” Draco replied. “But it’s better here. Safer for Scorpius.”

“Do you like it here, then?”

Draco smiled. “Scorpius doesn’t mind. I think he’d like having friends, but you see how he gets when he’s worked up. I can’t risk that around Muggle children. You haven’t found a Malaysian Wizarding community, have you?”

“No,” Harry admitted.

“Well, there’s that, and also the fact that I think Scorpius would like to get out more, but we don’t get to do that -”

“Draco,” Harry said suddenly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, and of course it’s important what Scorpius thinks - but I was asking about you.”

“Me.” It took Draco a moment to process that. 

“You had to leave behind everything to come here and start anew,” Harry said. “It can’t have been easy. And it matters, you know. How you feel.”

“I’m a father, Harry, I have to -”

“You’re a person, too,” Harry said. “It’s admirable how much you care for Scorpius, and the kid is in amazing hands with a dad like you, but… you need to take care of yourself sometimes, you know? Think of your own needs and wants.”

Draco didn’t reply. He couldn’t. It had been a long time since he’d thought of himself seriously, instead of focusing completely on Scorpius’ needs and how to keep him happy.

“Draco?”

“Yeah.”

“Try to think of yourself sometimes, yeah?”

“Maybe.” Draco shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable sitting position. He watched as Harry’s eyes followed his tiny movements. What could he be thinking about? “So, what about you?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“What’s your sordid story? How did you end up halfway across the world, in the middle of a jungle?”

“Forest,” Harry corrected. “And… well… I don’t really have much of a sordid story, to be honest.”

Draco shrugged. “Tell me about it anyway.”

Harry looked like he was bracing himself, then he leaned back on his hands. “I got… tired.”

Tiredness. That was something Draco could relate to, but he knew Harry’s experiences would be different, so he stayed silent and said nothing. 

Eventually, after considering his quiet response, Harry continued to speak. “The Ministry was practically hunting me down to get me into Auror training. Everyone was making bets on when I’d propose to my partner. There were a lot of expectations attached to being who I was.”

Draco sensed that Harry was waiting for him to contribute. “You say who you were. In past tense.”

“It wasn’t  _ real _ ,” Harry mused. “I was ever any of those things. The Golden Boy, or the Chosen One, or The Boy Who Lived - well, perhaps that last one I technically was semantically - but I wasn’t whatever people wanted to call me then. I was… just Harry. I’ve always wanted to be just Harry. But I never really got the chance.”

Draco thought of how stressful it must have been for Harry to live his entire life being known for something he couldn’t even remember, and living up to what everyone else wanted from him. He regretted, then, how he’d treated Harry back in school. Having to go through that much and then be subject to bullying… Draco cringed to think of his teenage self.

“So I packed up my bags,” Harry said. “Told just a few people what I was doing. Left. Never looked back.” He smiled, almost fondly. “See, the funny thing about Malaysia is that people tend to forget it exists. They’ll mention every other Southeast Asian country before even thinking to mention Malaysia. It was the perfect getaway.”

“Was it difficult, to leave everything behind?” Draco asked.

Harry looked wistful now. “A little, especially at first. It was hard to say goodbye to Ginny, but she understood when I explained it to her. Said she wouldn’t be waiting around for me, so I’d better be alright over here.” He laughed. “Her words kept me going when I was first settling down, finding my own place, looking for a job.”

“She didn’t want to come with you?”

“Ginny? You kidding?” Harry grinned. “She had her entire Quidditch life and career ahead of her. She wasn’t going to leave it behind for me.”

Draco nodded. “Good for her.”

“I did love her,” Harry said. “Still do, in a way - but not romantically.” He smiled. “But I don’t think we were ever going to end up together for the rest of our lives.”

“You never know with these things,” Draco remarked. “I thought Astoria was the last person I’d ever love. The next person I loved didn’t work out, but he did prove that life has its share of surprises.”

Harry looked surprised. “He?”

Draco nodded. “Yes. He. You’re pan, Harry - surely you’re familiar with the concept of being attracted to more than one gender.”

“Prick,” Harry chided. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Didn’t think Draco Malfoy would ever fancy blokes.”

Draco snorted. “It wasn’t obvious that I was very into Diggory back then?”

It took Harry a moment to understand. “Cedric?” he exclaimed. “No fucking way.”

“I practically made him a fan club, Harry. How unobservant -”

“I thought you were just trying to be a right git to me!”

Draco grimaced. “Well, that too.”

A beat of silence, then Harry said: “It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“That we’re both here, queer, and leaving our old lives behind.”

Was Harry implying what Draco thought he was implying? The other man’s eyes looked impossibly bright, almost burning, in the timid firelight, and Draco suddenly became aware that Harry had moved towards him during their conversation and now sat only a quarter of the fire pit away. Draco felt himself shift, moving closer to the other man, as if drawn by some inexplicable force. There was a tugging feeling in both his stomach and chest, telling him to come in closer, telling him to just reach out and -

Lightning flashed suddenly overhead, followed immediately by a rumbling of thunder so loud that it must have been earsplitting outside of the barrier. Draco jumped backwards, away from Harry, as though he himself had been struck. He quickly stood up, brushing himself off from any dirt that may have gotten on his clothes.

“I should go check on Scorpius,” Draco said hurriedly. “And then sleep, myself.”

“Oh.” Harry looked… almost disappointed. Maybe Draco was imagining it. “Sure.”

“I presume we have a long day tomorrow, so it’s only the intelligent choice,” Draco replied, trying desperately to hide any warmth or shakiness in his voice. As a result, the words tumbled out in a fast, heaping mess, each with a cutting cold edge to them.

If Harry noticed his verbal errors, he didn’t mention it. “Yes, we’ll be heading to the main landmark of Endau-Rompin tomorrow: the Buaya Sangkut waterfall.”

“Buaya  _ what _ ?”

“It means ‘hanging crocodile’.”

“I suppose it has its own legend behind the name attached to it that you’ll graciously impart your knowledge of to us tomorrow.”

“You know me a little too well for someone who’s just spent three days here,” Harry joked.

Three days. Had it really been three days? It felt simultaneously like a lifetime and a second all at once. And with each passing moment - both seconds and lifetimes - Draco became more and more aware that he couldn’t sit around denying his feelings for Harry any longer. He almost chuckled hysterically when he thought of what his parents would say to that, but he restrained himself. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Draco said instead.

Harry lingered too long, almost looking hesitant to respond. Then, he too, gave in. “Goodnight, Draco.”


	5. Day Four

“I confess, I’m rather disappointed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to Draco. There were beads of sweat slipping from his forehead and onto his chin, and Draco had to admonish all his impulsive thoughts for leaping up and suggesting that he might like to taste a drop.

“Disappointed?” Harry asked.

“When you said this was Endau-Rompin’s main landmark, I imagined something much more impressive,” Draco replied.

They were currently resting in the waters beneath a very simple and small waterfall. The sun was out again today, as though making up for the horrid clashing of the thunderstorm from the previous night, and it was really going for it. Even wading in this pool couldn’t stop Draco from sweating profusely, though it was still very early in the morning.

He had spent an awful lot of time awkwardly trying to hide the fact that he was casting multiple Cooling Charms on himself. Just a day or two ago, he’d have happily done so openly in front of Harry just to piss him off, but for some reason, today, he felt the need to impress him. He wondered if he’d been secretly struck by lightning as he slept and fried his brain.

Harry was laughing now. “What? Oh, this isn’t Buaya Sangkut, Draco. This is Batu Hampar.” He pointed upwards. “That waterfall we’re aiming for is up there.”

Draco followed Harry’s pointing, and his jaw nearly dropped. Luckily, he was able to maintain decorum at the last minute, but his mind was reeling still. Harry was pointing to the top of a hill that seemed to stretch for miles upwards. The slope wasn’t completely impossible - just at about 45 degrees - but he couldn’t even see the top of it.

“How is Scorpius supposed to climb that?” Draco spluttered. Or, for that matter, how was he?

“I assumed he could ride on your back when he gets tired,” Harry said. “The slope isn’t too dangerous and we have harnesses, and plenty of flat spots to stop at should we need a rest.”

“I wanna go the whole way up!” Scorpius exclaimed. 

Draco glanced back up at the hill. It really was quite terrifying, and, as much as he believed in Scorpius’ capabilities and his wild energy levels, there was no way the kid wasn’t going to need to hop onto his back eventually. 

“This is Semanggong Hill,” Harry grinned. “703 meters up - or 2307 feet, if you prefer - and a 45 degree slope that’s perfect for climbing!” 

Draco saw that he was removing huge amounts of long rope from his already large knapsack. They appeared to be made from rattan, and Draco felt nervousness build in his belly. 

“Are those quite sturdy enough?” Draco asked.

“We do maintenance checks on the ropes every day and change them when needed. But rattan is actually very hardy,” Harry assured him. “It’s good stuff.” He offered it to Draco to feel.

Draco reached out and touched the rattan rope, careful not to accidentally brush Harry’s hand in the process. With the mixture of heat and the swirling of the tumultuous emotions inside Draco’s body, he didn’t trust himself not to do anything rash if they touched. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this at all, but he really did have some… feelings for the Gryffindor.

Harry pulled the rope back and Draco realized he hadn’t actually been paying attention to how the rattan felt. He had been too busy trying not to act on certain building impulses involving Harry and his hands and his face and his lips that he’d neglected to register the texture or strength of the rope at all.

“See? Strong,” Harry smiled.

Unable to think of anything to do, Draco nodded mutely. 

“How fast can we go up?” Scorpius asked. His eyes were wide and he was looking up at the hill in amazement. If it looked magnificent and terrifyingly tall to Draco, it must seem even larger for Scorpius.

“It usually takes about three hours,” Harry said. “But being careful is more important than being speedy. If you fall down, you’d have to do it all again!”

Draco was sure that wasn’t the only bad part about falling down, but he didn’t want to say that out loud, and thinking of anything happening to Scorpius made him shudder. 

Harry was getting the harnesses ready. He turned to Draco and Scorpius and smiled brightly. The confidence in that grin was almost blinding.

“Are we ready?” Harry chirped.

“Yeah!” Scorpius whooped with glee.

Draco clenched his fists. This was going to be a long climb.

\--

It was, in fact, a long climb to the peak of Semanggong Hill. About one hour into the climb, Scorpius gave up on moving his legs and had to be strapped to Draco’s back securely, and Draco’s bag passed to Harry to carry.

Although Harry had already caught and admonished Draco twice for repeated use of Cooling Charms, Draco didn’t miss the tour guide’s nonverbal Temporary Sticking Charm that ensured Scorpius would have no chance of falling off whatsoever. For some reason, the thought of Harry going the extra mile for his son made Draco’s knees weak, and he had to force himself not to think about it or risk losing his footing. Besides, he wouldn’t be surprised if Harry did this for every little kid that went on this hike - Muggles wouldn’t notice, surely, and he could undo the charm fairly quickly when needed. 

When Harry finally clambered over the peak of the hill and leaned down to help Draco up the last few steps, Draco heaved the biggest sigh of relief he might have ever exhaled in his entire life. Harry helped hoist him upwards and over the edge, practically dragged him a few feet away from the precipice, and unstrapped Scorpius from his back. Draco could barely see through his exhaustion.

“Father, Father, look!”

Draco mustered his last bit of strength and turned to give Scorpius his attention, and he immediately realized that the entire upward hike had been worth it.

The waterfall that stretched upwards before them over a large, mossy body of water was as magnificently exquisite as it was demurely solemn. It was by no means particularly tall, but there was something awe-inspiring about the rushing white water cascading in hurried, smooth streams over the craggy rocks beneath, shining and gleaming from their coats of moisture. There were countless dashes of quick-paced water diligently pouring themselves into the pond from all over a wide and far-reaching naturally formed wall of rock. Overhead, the ever-burning sun attacked each individual rush of the waterfall, glinting against the droplets as they sprayed over the ground beneath before disappearing to join their brethren in the body of water.

“Welcome to the Buaya Sangkut waterfall!” Harry smiled. “Its name directly translates to ‘hanging crocodile’, and it is the most famous of all attractions here at Endau Rompin! This waterfall is a whopping 30 meters wide and 120 meters tall, and every second, it spills in 17,000 gallons of water!”

“Is there a legend too?” Scorpius asked. He was already inching his way towards the water, glancing at Draco fervently for a word of approval. Too tired to provide it, Draco focused on struggling to his feet. 

“Yes. It’s a little more… grim than the other legend I talked about,” Harry admitted. He threw a questioning look at Draco, probably to check if it would be alright to tell Scorpius about it anyway.

Draco gave him a barely noticeable nod as he successfully hauled himself upright and into a standing position.

“Well, once upon a time, there was a mother who had just given birth to an incredibly beautiful baby girl,” Harry began. “But the mother had a terrifying dream. She dreamed that a big crocodile was going to come and kill her precious baby. Believing this to be a bad omen, she and her husband moved house and climbed all the way to the top of this hill to escape the crocodile.”

“Did it work?” Scorpius piped up.

Draco wasn’t exactly psychic, but he was pretty sure that it likely didn’t work.

“No,” Harry said, confirming Draco’s suspicions. “A humongous crocodile followed them and eventually found their new home. The father of the family couldn’t fight this gigantic beast, so he summoned a python to fight for them. The battle was long and fierce, and in the end, both animals were killed. Although it wasn’t a full win, the family was ecstatic because the crocodile was dead. They were so happy that the father skinned the crocodile and hung its skin up on the wall of their new home.”

“And they lived happily ever after?” Scorpius asked.

Harry started to shake his head then hesitated. He opened his mouth, and looked like he was about to say yes, then he glanced at Draco again. 

“Tell him the full legend,” Draco said.

Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and looked back down at Scorpius. “No. A few days later, their baby girl was crawling underneath the area where the crocodile skin was hung. At that moment, the skin dislodged from the wall and crashed on top of her, killing her.”

Scorpius gasped and clutched Draco’s hand reflexively.

“And so, in a way, the crocodile did kill their baby… just not in the way they expected,” Harry finished. “Today, when the water is low, you can see a rock shaped just like a crocodile on the base of this small pond. Legend has it that this is the same crocodile that gave this place its name.”

There was a dramatic silence before Scorpius spoke again. “So the lesson is, don’t count your owls before they are delivered?”

“I suppose that would be the lesson, wouldn’t it?” Draco smiled.

“Boo!” Scorpius complained. “Everyone knows that lesson!”

“Yes, but wasn’t it so nice of Harry to tell us that story, Scorpius?” Draco chided.

Scorpius mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation.

“And what do we say to him?” Draco prodded.

“Thank you, Harry,” Scorpius said.

“There’s a good lad,” Draco smiled, ruffling Scorpius’ hair - or trying to. It was so damp from sweat that it was practically glued to his scalp. “Now, off you go into the water.”

Scorpius’ entire face lit up as he dashed off towards the small pond, which was calm and tranquil as it flowed - a direct contrast to the almost violent splashing of water from the falls above it. 

“Aren’t you going to join him?” Harry asked.

A sudden rush of bravery overcame Draco, and his mouth was speaking far before his brain could prevent it. “Only if you’re coming,” he said, throwing Harry a smirk. He pulled his shirt off over his head and, suddenly invigorated, ran towards the water. He threw a glance over his shoulder just in time to see a huge grin breaking out over Harry’s face as the man dropped the two backpacks he was carrying and began to follow him. For some reason, Draco couldn’t help feeling that he wanted to see this every day. It was a foolish, uncontrolled thought - but weren’t those, sometimes, the best?

\--

The night was calm. After the intensity of the two previous nights, this reprieve was something Draco couldn’t help feeling thankful for. 

It didn’t take too long for Scorpius to fall asleep, but in spite of the long day and the strenuous hiking, Draco couldn’t get himself to doze off nearly as easily. In fact, he couldn’t get himself to doze off at all. Instead, he found his thoughts repeatedly drawn to a certain messy-haired, bespectacled tour guide with a wardrobe full of baggy t-shirts.

Draco wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that made him feel like this. A large part of him wanted to put it down to the fact that Harry was the first magical person that he’d met in several years. He wanted to tell himself it was only logical that, after being alone for such a long time, he would naturally gravitate towards someone that reminded him of his old life.

But even as Draco tried to assure himself that this was all it was, he knew, deep down, this wasn’t the case. Harry didn’t remind Draco of his old life at all. Instead, he reminded Draco of new beginnings, of hope, and of overcoming challenges - all things Draco had done himself when he took that big step to bring Scorpius here and leave his family behind. 

What Draco also knew deep down in his heart was that he had it pretty bad for Harry. He couldn’t remember feeling this conflicted, or having his heart palpitate quite so violently, with anyone else - other than Astoria. He wondered what she would think of these thoughts he was having now. He wondered if she would laugh at his predicament. He wondered why he was wondering - of course she would, and then she’d say he was overthinking it and needed to get over to Harry right away. 

Draco unzipped the front flap of his tent and peered out. There was some light coming from the inside of Harry’s tent, and he could vaguely see a silhouette of the man sitting, slightly hunched, as though bent over a book. 

That’s when Draco did something he never thought he’d have the bravery to do - he left his tent and began to walk towards Harry’s.

Every fibre in his being was screaming, telling him he was making a mistake, telling him to retreat to the quiet safety of his own tent with his sleeping son. But his legs were moving, almost on their own, as though independently walking and dragging the rest of Draco’s body along with him.

Draco stopped outside Harry’s tent. What was he supposed to do? Knock? There was nothing to knock on. He awkwardly cleared his throat. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should head back now and stop entertaining these impossible thoughts and desires that would only bring him harm. Maybe -

“Draco? Is that you?”

Draco jumped as Harry’s voice came from his tent. A mere second later, Harry’s head poked out from the front, staring up at him in bewilderment.

“What’s up?” Harry asked. “Is something wrong with Scorpius? Do I need to -”

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Draco said quickly. “I just… ah…”

Draco cursed himself. Where was his eloquence now, when he so needed it? Why had it deserted him? Surely all his years spent around his incredibly sassy and smart-mouthed family hadn’t been for nothing.

Harry’s expression had turned sympathetic. “Can’t sleep?”

Draco supposed that was mostly true. He nodded.

Harry smiled and jerked his head towards the inside of his tent. “Come on in, then.”

Draco slowly crawled into Harry’s tent. Harry had returned back to a farther corner of the small enclosed space, and he had a book next to him open to a page somewhere in the middle.

“It’s called Treasure Island,” Harry said, noticing what Draco was looking at. 

“I didn’t take you for the classic-reading type,” Draco said. 

“And I didn’t take you for someone who’d know Muggle literature,” Harry retorted. “And here we are.”

“Yes,” Draco said slowly. “Here we are, indeed.”

He’d wound up sitting frighteningly close to Harry, who put his book away and turned to him. In this small space, the lack of distance between them felt especially intimate. 

“So, have you been enjoying this trip and everything?” Harry asked. 

Draco recognized the pleasant lilt to his voice that usually meant someone was desperately clamouring for small talk. Draco couldn’t blame him for it - he himself was feeling so strangely awkward that he could barely breathe.

“It’s been… interesting,” Draco allowed. “I never thought I’d admit this, but perhaps nature isn’t so bad after all.”

Harry smiled. “Well you  _ have  _ been cheating with those Cooling Charms.”

Draco smirked. “You can prove nothing.”

There was a roll of emerald eyes as Harry laughed. Draco found himself oddly fixated by the way his irises moved and tried to shift his focus elsewhere.

“It’s not so bad at night, though, is it?” Harry grinned.

To be quite frank, it was a little too chilly tonight. Draco voiced this opinion. “It’s not exactly palatable either,” he said. “Too far on the other end of the spectrum.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. It was a struggle not to watch too closely. “You really are a spoiled brat, huh?” He started to move closer.

Panic surged in Draco’s chest. “What are you doing?”

Harry shrugged, coming to rest beside Draco. They were awfully cramped now, though Harry wasn’t touching Draco quite yet  - his knee brushed against Draco’s in an unintentional dance. “I thought it would make things less cold,” he admitted. “I can move back, if you like.”

“No, I -” Draco swallowed nervously. “This is alright.” Had it really been cold a moment ago? The air was suddenly stifling. Harry’s face was mere inches away from Draco’s, and Draco first began to wonder why Harry looked so different up close before seeing that it was because his pupils were blown so wide they made his eyes look black instead of that potion-like green Draco knew and loved. Yes, Draco realized, he really did love Harry’s eyes. He was starting to feel a little dizzy.

“You know,” Harry said. “I’m really glad we wound up bumping into each other. I wasn’t happy about it at first, but… this is nice.”

Draco wasn’t sure “nice” was the right word. Torturous, perhaps? “I think,” he admitted, “I’m quite glad we met again, as well.”

“Do you reckon it’s fate?” Harry asked.

“I don’t believe such hogwash can be thanked for any of life’s events,” Draco said. 

Harry chuckled. “I think it is. Serendipity, and all that. It’s too much of a coincidence not to be.”

“You’ve always had questionable levels of intelligence.”

The lantern inside the tent suddenly went out. Harry whipped out his wand and poked it, muttering an incantation. It lit back up again.

“Whatever happened to doing things the Muggle way?” Draco said. 

Harry shrugged. “I make the rules, so I can break them.”

“Is that so?” Draco whipped his own wand out and waved it in the very obvious pattern of a Cooling Charm.

Harry glared at him. “Stop that, you git. Didn’t you say you were cold?”

Draco waved his wand again. The light inside the lantern changed colour, glowing a bright, passionate red.

“That’s quite enough,” Harry said scathingly. “I’m sure you’ve had your fun.”

Draco hadn’t. He waved his wand once more. Harry lunged for it, but not before Draco was able to cast a rather good Shrinking Charm on his glasses. They fell off Harry’s nose and onto the ground as Harry crashed into Draco, knocking him over and wrestling his wand from his hands.

“You’re a right prick,” Harry hissed, successfully snatching Draco’s wand and tossing it to the other side of the tent. Draco fell back onto the ground, his elbow protesting as he struggled to keep himself somewhat upright.

“It takes one to know one,” Draco smirked. He raised his hand and summoned his wand back into it silently. 

Harry practically growled and leapt forward again, trying to get the wand once more. This time, he came crashing over Draco and wound up hovering over him, barely propped up, his now glasses-free eyes even darker than they’d looked before. Draco became extremely aware of the fact that Harry’s nose was nearly touching his and inhaled sharply, his heartbeat going into overdrive.

Apparently, Harry noticed what had happened to, because he quickly tried to get off of Draco, stumbling as he pushed himself away. Draco, too, shuffled backwards quickly. They were soon on opposite sides of their little space, refusing to look each other in the eye.

“Warm night, isn’t it?” Harry said conversationally, as though trying to brush off what had just happened.

“Indeed,” Draco agreed. He realized his hands were shaking and abruptly forced them down, hard, onto his lap to make it less obvious. 

There were several beats of silence. Then, Harry threw his arms upwards.

“Draco, this is ridiculous,” he said. “We’re not 12 years old, for Merlin’s sake.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” That was, of course, a lie. But Draco was perfectly content to continue acting like a child - though he couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that some children were surely smarter than he was acting at this moment. It wouldn’t surprise him. Scorpius was smarter than him a lot of the time.

“We literally just got ourselves in the stereotypical will-they won’t-they scenario!” Harry exclaimed, clearly frustrated. 

“And those stereotypes, Harry, are from fake fictional sources that have zero bearing on real life,” Draco replied, proud of himself for not missing a beat.

Harry sighed, picked his tiny glasses up, and stared at them contemplatively. “Why are we doing this to ourselves, Draco?”

“We’re not doing anything.”

“I’m serious.” Harry put his glasses away, not even bothering to enlarge them back to their normal size. “Why are pretending that there’s nothing between us?”

“An old rivalry? I thought we were past that.”

“No, not the rivalry - this. This friendship. This…  _ more  _ than friendship.”

It felt like Draco’s knees had been kicked out from under him, and he was suddenly immensely glad to already be sitting down. Was there any chance at all that Harry reciprocated some of his feelings? It didn’t seem likely. 

“I assure you I don’t know what you mean,” Draco said. 

Harry’s responding sigh sounded an awful lot like resignation, or like defeat. Draco, partially disappointed and partially thrilled that he’d managed to avoid this dangerous situation, decided this was about the right time to announce that he would be returning to his tent.

But then, before he could do more than blink a couple of times, Harry had crawled awkwardly across the space inside the tent and was now right in front of Draco once more. If Draco thought their proximity had been difficult to handle before, now it was impossible to even fathom. This time, Harry’s movements were deliberate, intentional, each designed specifically for the purpose of encroaching on Draco’s space, his still-dark eyes seeking out and observing every single one of Draco’s reactions for proof that Draco had been lying.

“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” Draco said. At least, he thought he said it. He couldn’t be sure - his brain had definitely screamed that, among other things, but there was no telling what he’d actually done, because everything had become simultaneously far too intense and much too blurry all at once. 

“Draco,” Harry said, his gaze practically burning right into Draco’s soul, making his chest clench painfully but also making it impossible to look away. “Just say the word and I will drop this, and never mention this again. But tell me, don’t you want something to happen between us?”

He  _ did.  _ There was nothing Draco longed for more than to close the space between them, press their mouths together, feel Harry’s skin with shaking fingers, take him into his mouth… But these were just fantasies, surely. They would be dangerous to entertain. Harry was a man of nature - he worked here, kept himself occupied, looked to be at a place in his life where he was free and happy. Draco wasn’t quite there yet. Draco would drag him down. Worse still, Harry would realize Draco was a mess, would realize the only thing Draco had ever been even slightly good at was being a father, and would leave, and Draco would be broken again, hurt again, and… 

“Draco?” 

Draco realized he had yet to respond. “Harry,” he said. His voice cracked, and his cheeks burned from the embarrassment of it. “Harry, I… want to. But we can’t. This is my last night here -”

“We can just… try,” Harry said sincerely. His voice was thick with an emotion, a longing, Draco couldn’t quite decipher. “Just for tonight. And if it doesn’t work, it’s just a fling. We’ll never see each other again.”

Just a fling. Draco could handle just a fling. Besides, maybe that’s all he wanted and needed. Maybe he was just physically attracted to Harry and that this would all go away with one night of acting on it. When was the last time he’d had a fling, for fun, no strings attached? And if that was what Harry wanted - well, that made much more sense to Draco, because there was no way the Golden Boy would ever want more than that with him. It was a painful but relaxing thought. This didn’t have to mean anything. It could just be… a fling. Yes.

“Draco?” Harry asked again.

Draco responding by reaching out and grabbing the front of Harry’s shirt and tugging him forward. They collided awkwardly - perhaps moves like this were best left for movies - and their noses bumped together as their lips met for the very first time. It was messy, almost chaotic, and Harry’s skin on his arms felt like fire beneath Draco’s trembling fingertips as they struggled to align themselves together, but it was perfect. It was more perfect than anything Draco had felt for a long, long time.

They collapsed onto the ground, Harry’s weight knocking the breath out of Draco as they still grasped for each other, their bodies pressed together in a turmoil of heat and fervour, legs tangling in their desperation to somehow get closer, nearer,  _ more _ . Harry’s breath was hot in Draco’s mouth, his lips bruising against Draco’s own, his teeth sharp when they clashed with Draco’s tongue, and Draco’s mind filled with nothing but the way Harry felt against him.

It was like his body was moving on its own, now, excited at finally being able to touch and absorb and experience what it had longed for so badly in the past few days. Draco felt oddly detached from his body yet at the same time far too present in reality as he pulled Harry’s shirt over his head and quickly got rid of his own.

Harry’s eyes trailed over every inch of Draco’s newly exposed skin, his eyes practically raking heated paths as their glace travelled over his chest and stomach. Draco tried not to feel self-conscious as he subconsciously compared his thin physique to Harry’s lean tone, admiring the colour of his tanned skin, the rise of his chest, the dip of his stomach… 

Draco wasn’t able to stare much longer as Harry practically pounced on him, latching his lips and teeth on his neck. Draco keened, head tilting back into the ground as Harry’s tongue ran over his flesh, pausing to let his teeth nibble and graze against the sensitive skin. Overwhelmed by the hurried, almost feverish motions, Draco found himself gripping tightly onto Harry’s back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath his touch.

As Harry kissed his way down Draco’s chest, barely slowing down to swirl his tongue now and then, a sense of urgency mounted within Draco. His stomach was aflutter and his pulse was thundering in his ears as he arched his back to bring himself even closer to Harry’s mouth. His vision was pulsing, flooded with heat and passion and the red from the still-charmed lantern in the corner of the tent. 

Draco wasn’t able to keep up with the following sequence of events. His trousers were suddenly around his ankles. A hot, feverish mouth was pressing against him through the cloth of his briefs, the sensation barely enough for Draco’s heady desires but still overwhelming in a million different ways.

He wasn’t sure when his briefs were pushed down uncomfortably halfway down his thigh, but before he could even consider it, Harry had taken him into his mouth, and his entire body was lighting on fire. 

Draco tangled his fingers through Harry’s hair, struggling not to buck his hips up violently like he so desperately wanted to. Harry’s tongue was doing wonders, his cheeks hollowing around Draco, and when he made a swallowing motion around him Draco could no longer keep himself from rutting forwards. 

Harry made a choked sound and pulled away, and Draco took the opportunity to push him over, flipping their positions so Draco could return the favour. At long last, Draco’s inhibitions and his worries were slipping away, slinking off to find someplace else to haunt, and he made quick work of Harry’s pants and boxers, giving the Gryffindor no as little time to process the situation as Draco had before wrapping his lips around him. He tasted phenomenal, and Draco never wanted to stop. He glanced upwards to see Harry’s eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent cry, and there had never been a more incredible sight in the world.

Eventually, Draco resurfaced to catch his breath. He looked up to meet Harry’s eyes, now very visibly fuelled with lust. “How far do you want to take this?” Draco asked. He sounded raspy, almost hoarse.

Harry contemplated this for no longer than a second. “As far as you want to go.”

If they were going to take it that far, Harry was going to have to stop looking so brutally sexy, or Draco wasn’t going to last much longer.

The next quarter hour or so consisted of whispered spells and hushed moans and groans. Draco could barely see in the red light from the lantern, but Harry was so responsive, keening and gasping and arching under Draco’s ministrations, so Draco kept going. He waited, with bated breath, for Harry to tell him to stop, for the inevitable point that he changed his mind. It didn’t come.

When Draco pressed himself into Harry, trying to go slow and gently even though Harry felt so good,  _ so good _ , he realized that it had been possible, all along, to feel as full and happy and whole as he had years and years ago.

Harry pulled Draco down to him so their lips could meet once more, much more sensually this time, but still rushed and intense and urgent, and it took everything in Draco not to unravel on the spot. And how could he? How could he allow this to end so soon, these sensations, these feelings, Harry squeezing down on him, practically writhing when Draco found the right angle, screaming and pleading for  _ more, more, more _ …

“Fuck,” Draco muttered as Harry wrapped his legs tightly around him, demanding more bruising kisses, becoming increasingly vulnerable with Draco’s every thrust. It was too much, too good, too hot. Beneath him, Harry moaned Draco’s name, moments away from tumbling over the edge. With one final cry, Draco led the way off that precipice, taking Harry with him, his mind going blank for a beautiful, exquisite few seconds. 

For a moment, suspended in time, they lay there, intertwined, breathing laboured and heavy, panting and gasping for breath. Then, slowly, Draco rolled off of Harry to lie beside him. Harry laced their fingers together in one almost reflexive movement, and they fell silent. 

“Wow,” Harry finally said.

Draco would happily echo the sentiment if it didn’t feel like such an understatement. He turned to look at Harry. His face was flushed, his skin coated in sweat, and his hair significantly messier than usual - which was saying something. It was a good look - a  _ very  _ good look. Draco felt a stirring down south again and wondered if he’d be able to go for round two.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re absolutely beautiful?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked, which covered up the warmth he felt flooding his veins at the glowing compliment. “So often I’ve become accustomed to it,” he teased.

Harry grinned. “Well, that’s because it’s true.”

“No surprises there.”

Harry shook his head. “You just had to ruin the moment.”

“Or perhaps, Harry, this is my idea of a good moment.”

Harry laughed. “I’ll take it.”

There was a brief silence that gave Draco far too much time to worry about their little “fling”. Just then, he heard a quiet voice from outside.

“Father?”

Draco and Harry sat bolt upright at the same time, quickly pulling their underwear and pants back on - a difficult achievement in the crowded, cramped space of the tent. Luckily. Scorpius hadn’t caught on to the fact that Draco was in Harry’s tent and was presumably still somewhere just outside, possibly needing to be accompanied so he could use the bathroom somewhere in a cluster of trees.

Draco rushed to pull his shirt back on. It was very creased from them lying on top of it by accident at some point, somehow. Harry, however, wasn’t bothering to pull his shirt back on. Draco let his eyes sweep over his lithe form one more time.

“Father!” 

“I should probably get to Scorpius,” Draco said.

“Definitely,” Harry agreed.

“I’ll… uh… see you tomorrow, then, Harry.”

“Yes, you will.”

Draco fumbled awkwardly with the zipper on Harry’s tent, just managing to pull it down without it catching on the fabric.

“Oh, there you are, Father!” Scorpius looked happy to see him. He was just rubbing the sleep from his eyes and hopping from one foot to the other. “What are you doing in there?”

“Just having a nice chat with Harry, Scorp,” Draco smiled. “Need to go?”

Scorpius nodded in earnest.

Draco crawled out of the tent and turned back to close it. Harry was wearing his glasses again now, back to their normal size, and was watching him with a strange look on his face.

“Well.” Draco tried for a smirk. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he held desperately onto the idea that this was just a meaningless one night stand. Surely those things were harmless.

“Goodnight, Harry,” he said.

Harry nodded. “Goodnight, Draco.”


	6. Day Five

The first thing Draco felt when he woke up was a strange sense of peace and happiness - a kind of which he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The second thing Draco felt, as soon as the events of last night washed over him and flooded his memory, was complete and utter terror.

Draco sat bolt upright in bed, his entire skin prickling with discomfort when he realized what he’d done. He had made a mistake. It was supposed to be a fling, right? A random night’s encounter that would all go away once he and Scorpius left and never spoke to Harry again? 

But it wasn’t. Draco knew that, yesterday, when Harry had consoled him with the idea that whatever happened between them then could just be a spot of fun that meant nothing. Draco knew it meant something, no matter how much he tried to squash that something down. He’d practically been infatuated with Harry the second he’d seen him. Sure, he’d denied it, but who spent all their time meeting an old rival by checking them out from head to toe and then promptly falling head over heels for the way they spoke a different language?

No. This certainly would not do. Draco could not allow himself to get closer to Harry like this. He could not allow himself to risk revealing the truth - that Harry was the first person he’d felt this strongly about since Astoria. That Harry ignited something within him he never thought he’d ever feel again. That Harry was different. Special. Everything Draco wanted and knew he could never deserve. 

Draco looked around him and realized that Scorpius had already left the tent. Now that his senses were done focusing inward on his impending dread, he could hear his son’s laughter outside, accompanied by Harry’s voice. He tried not to think about how much he loved hearing them interact, focusing instead on the fact that they’d be out of here by evening.

Steeling himself, Draco forced himself to crawl out of the tent and into the morning. Harry and Scorpius were sat next to the newly ignited fire pit, readying cans of breakfast food. It was gloomy today - dark, overcast clouds hung over them, threatening to burst forth and spill their contents onto their heads. Maybe Draco could use the weather as a reason to cut their trip short.

“Father!” Scorpius exclaimed. He rushed up to Draco, who had just only straightened himself to a standing position, and practically tackled him, wrapping his arms around Draco’s stomach. Draco stumbled backwards awkwardly. “Harry was just telling me about the big library at the park headquarters. We’re gonna go there after breakfast!”

“That’s nice,” Draco said, trying to sound sincere.

Harry was walking over to them. He had a smile on his lips - one that seemed both impossibly sultry and engagingly bright at the same time. Draco felt the urge to kiss that smile.

“Good morning,” Harry said. 

His voice had a new quality to it - a certain warmth that hadn’t been there before. He’d been friendly and wonderful during this whole trip, of course, but now there was a hidden hint of something…  _ more  _ to his voice: a silent caress, wrapping like velvet around each syllable, greeting Draco with an almost intimate sensuality that would be undetectable to anyone else’s ears. Draco wondered if Harry would speak to him like that every day if their relationship continued - a thought that almost made his resolve cave in.

“Morning,” Draco replied. Even to his own ears, the word rung hollow and sounded clipped around the edges. 

Harry’s expression changed subtly, as though he noticed the tone, but he didn’t react openly. “Sleep well?” he asked, smiling.

“Adequately,” Draco said. This time, the coldness was much more obvious, and he almost winced at his own voice.

Harry’s smile disappeared, but he plastered it back on as Scorpius grinned up at him and said something about fires being cool before running back to the fire to watch it burn.

Now out of Scorpius’ earshot, Harry stepped towards Draco. Draco stepped away again.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine, Potter,” Draco said shortly. 

Harry wrinkled his nose and frowned. It was an adorable look. Draco tried not to think of it as such. “What’s the matter? Is it because of what happened last -”

“Last night meant nothing,” Draco snapped.

This time, it was impossible to miss the sudden hurt flashing over Harry’s face. “Excuse me?”

Anger was starting to build within Draco. Wasn’t Harry the one who suggested that it would mean nothing? Why should this be a problem for him at all? “Did you get something in your ears, Potter?” he spat. “Last night meant nothing. As such, there’s no need for you to bring it up.”

Harry exhaled slowly. “Draco, we can talk about this, you know -”

“How considerate of you,” Draco sneered. “Unfortunately for you, there is nothing to discuss. It meant nothing. It was nothing. It  _ is  _ nothing. Why would we discuss nothing?”

Harry looked like he was about to try and reason with Draco, but then his expression turned stony. He nodded once and began to walk away, halted in his steps, and finally turned back to speak.

“You know, Malfoy,” he said, and the sudden use of Draco’s surname coupled with his spiteful tone nearly sent Draco’s entire chest crumbling. “You know, I really honestly thought that you’d matured over the years. Gotten better, kinder, for your son and for you.” He shook his head. “Guess I was wrong.”

By the time Draco’s vision was no longer blurring and his body no longer in danger of collapsing from the weight of Harry’s words, the man had walked off and put a cheerful mask back on for Scorpius. Draco wondered if he did the right thing. Regardless, right now, protecting himself felt more important. Maybe the Malfoy cruelty and selfishness really did run in his blood.

\-- 

The sky was still miserable when they arrived at the Park Headquarters, a mirror of Draco’s current emotional state. He and Harry had maintained a mostly stony silence for a majority of their trek back, speaking only to Scorpius when needed. Their one interaction with each other had been a scathing exchange of remarks that were worthy of their rivalry days. 

Draco hoped his son wouldn’t start asking questions. Scorpius, young though he was, was far from an idiot. As a matter of fact, he was a rather smart kid for his age. Draco didn’t think he would be able to answer him if Scorpius started asking why he and Harry had reverted to speaking in one-word sentences to each other and pointedly ignoring the other if possible.

Luckily, by the time Scorpius seemed to get antsy enough to want to pose some questions, they’d managed to get to the Park Headquarters. There was a large, two-level wooden structure that housed an office and a library, and within the compound was also a large suspension bridge that stretched over a pond. It was noticeably more lively here, with families scattered about, children running around, and some stragglers hanging around and chatting.

The afternoon passed quickly and awkwardly. Harry kept his distance for the most part, so Draco and Scorpius spent time exploring. They walked over the suspension bridge - Draco keeping his eyes half-closed most of the time, since he’d never quite taken to heights - and laughed as they tossed rocks into the pond. They headed up to the library, where Scorpius stared in awe at pictures and animal and plant samples from around the forest, pointing out the ones he remembered seeing while on the trail. 

Draco, meanwhile, tried to immerse himself in an informational book, failing miserably the entire time. All Draco could think about was what he and Harry had said to each other. Surely he had made the right decision. He and Harry were wrong for each other in every single way, definitely. And there was no way Harry would want anything long-term with him, and while Draco was all for flings, there was no way he was going to be able to keep things casual between himself and Harry. 

But if he had really done the right thing, why did Draco feel so awful? Why were his hands shaking as he tried to turn a page in his book? Why were the sentences blurring together in a sloppy mess, making it impossible to make out the words? Why did his stomach dip and his heart jump whenever Harry looked at him, only to be followed by absolute devastation when he saw the contempt in Harry’s eyes? Why was his brain filled with thoughts of Harry, memories of his lips, his heated skin, his neck, his hair, his scent…

“Father! Father!” 

Draco looked down to see Scorpius tugging at his trouser leg. He felt suddenly guilty for not being as present with his son as he had been in the last several days. 

“Harry says it’s time for us to go,” Scorpius said. “He says we can go for a final lunch with the tribe or go straight home!”

Draco knew Scorpius would want to have a final meal with the tribe, but the thought of that angry, strange man who glared at them so strangely  _ and  _ spending another hour or so in Harry’s company was too much to bear.

“Let’s go home, huh, Scorp?” Draco said.

Scorpius looked immediately disappointed. “But…”

“Tell you what,” Draco smiled. “Since we can’t eat here, you can pick any restaurant that you want. And then we can go to a toy store and you can choose one present, and we’ll stay at a nice hotel for the night before going home. How about that?”

Apparently, this was a suitable compromise to Scorpius, who nodded excitedly. “Okay! I want some Secret Recipe!”

Draco laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

They walked out of the library. There were a few taxis lined up outside, waiting to take visitors home. Hui Ying was standing among the clusters of families, presumably sending one of her tour guide groups off with perfect customer service. Harry was standing there, too, in front of a taxi that was likely meant for Draco and Scorpius. He smiled at Scorpius and pointedly avoided looking at Draco.

“Had a good stay?” Hui Ying asked pleasantly as they approached. Draco thought he noticed a forcedness in her speech to them, as though she knew something she shouldn’t.

“Yes, Harry is… a great guide. Like you said.” The words felt phoney in Draco’s mouth, though he meant them. He cast a glance at the guide in question, who was in the process of leaning down to speak to Scorpius. He had a big smile on. Draco sort of missed it being turned in his direction.

“I told you were in good hands!” Hui Ying smiled. “Got to catch up?”

Harry spoke this time. “Yes. We did.”

“Had a chance to rethink your old rivalry, I suppose?”

For the first time in several hours, Harry looked straight at Draco. There was that familiar belly flopping feeling again, quickly gutted away by what looked like anger in that emerald gaze. Draco would have once gone out of his way to provoke that expression from him. Now, it just made him feel small.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I see it from a new perspective now.”

A knife pierced Draco’s chest, stalling his breathing. It was only after multiple seconds that he realized he had not actually been stabbed - merely having difficulty processing Harry’s curt nature. He always did have a penchant for the melodramatic.

Hui Ying seemed satisfied, as though any curiosities she’d had were answered by what Harry said - or perhaps his tone, or their awkward interaction. Draco couldn’t imagine what was on the enigmatic woman’s mind this time. 

“In you go, then,” Harry said, gently giving Scorpius a push into the taxi. He clambered in.

Draco recognized Ashikin’s voice coming from inside the taxi. What were the chances? “Eh,  _ anak _ ! Nice to see you again!” 

“You too,” Harry added to him. He was noticeably less warm with Draco, and his customer service voice had slid back into place.

“Look, Harry -” Draco started.

“Thank you for your visit, sir!” Harry smiled, ignoring Draco’s attempts to speak. “I hope you’ll have a safe journey home, and that you’ll come again!”

Draco realized, at that moment, that it was a lost cause. Harry was just glad to be rid of them, and there was nothing they could do about it.

As Draco fastened his seatbelt and Ashikin started to pull away, Draco shot a smile out the open window. A final one, just to tie things up.

“Goodbye, Harry,” he said.

Harry did not reply.


	7. One Day Later

Draco awoke with a groan to the sound of thunder, and the sensation of the earth violently vibrating beneath him. For a moment, he wondered if there was an earthquake, and grimly thought to himself that he wouldn’t mind if the ground opened up and swallowed him whole just then.

“Father! Father!”

Draco drowsily opened his eyes and saw that it wasn’t an earthquake - not the conventional kind, anyway. Instead, it was Scorpius, jumping up and down on the big hotel bed that they’d slept in accompanied by heavy rain noises from outside. He was grinning excitedly, still hyped up from their recent adventure and the birthday treats he’d managed to score. 

Upon seeing his father’s lacklustre response, Scorpius slowed down his bouncing until he came to a stop and fell forward on his knees on the soft mattress. “Father? Are you sick?”

Maybe not physically, Draco thought, but perhaps in other ways. It felt like too much of a leap to call himself lovesick, but that didn’t feel entirely inaccurate, either. 

“Father?”

Draco looked at his son. The young boy was dressed in his favourite jammies, which were covered in owl print, and was half-hugging the new stuffed toy Draco bought for him yesterday: a brightly coloured, anatomically incorrect dragon that definitely didn’t belong to any real species. Did Muggles really think dragons looked like that?

Scorpius was also wearing a rather concerned expression, which looked years too old for his small face.

“I’m fine, Scorpius,” Draco smiled, trying to sound reassuring. “I may be rather tired from our journey, however.”

Scorpius squinted. Draco knew the look - it was one of disbelief. Thankfully, he didn’t push it just then. “Okay,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

Draco knew the financially responsible thing to do would be to head down to a  _ mamak  _ stall and have some  _ roti kosong  _ or something - but he was far too tired to worry about the burden on his wallet. “Let’s order room service.”

This was definitely not something Scorpius would be complaining about. As he eagerly danced off to find the menu and then started rattling off food suggestions, Draco figured that getting some food into his system might help cheer him up a little.

The thunder pounding outside seemed to be trying to tell him otherwise.

Of course, a full stack of pancakes, several pieces of fruit, a rather pulpy glass of orange juice and a cup of bitter coffee later, Draco vaguely remembered learning a sort of lesson about the downsides of getting his hopes up in the not-too-far-away past, only to realize he hadn’t actually learned from that at all.

“Father?” Scorpius asked, after several long minutes where he attempted to entertain himself by turning the curtains into monsters for his new stuffed toy to fight as Draco lay, unmoving, in bed.

Draco tried to lift his head but couldn’t be bothered. “Yes?” 

“Is this about Harry?”

The boy had always been a little too perceptive.

“Harry? No, no, he’s just our tour guide, isn’t he?” Draco said.

“That’s not what I saw,” Scorpius replied.

“Saw?” Thoughts of spending those heated moments with Harry in his tent flashed into the forefront of Draco’s mind. “What exactly did you see?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I dunno. But you do this when Mother’s mad at you, too.”

Astoria and Draco had rarely ever fought, and never did so in front of Scorpius. “When has your Mother ever been mad at me?”

“Well there was that one time,” Scorpius said. “Mother said she was cancelling the babysitter and you were gonna stay home with me, and she went out for dinner by her own self.”

Draco knew what he was talking about. He’d been a bit of an arse that morning and Astoria decided to cancel their date night and go out for a fun night with her friends instead. This happened just about a month or so before Astoria had to be admitted to St. Mungo’s, so Scorpius was almost five. Draco hadn’t thought he’d noticed.

“You lay on the sofa all night,” Scorpius said. “And you tried to play with me but you didn’t really wanna.”

“I’m sorry about that, Scorp,” Draco replied. “I get sad sometimes, too, just like you.”

Scorpius nodded. “I know. Is it because of Harry?”

There was a blink of lightning - the sparking light tumbling through a small gap in the curtains Scorpius had left from his playing - followed by some more thunder. Scorpius winced, but it was so imperceptible compared to his usual reactions that Draco couldn’t help feeling impressed.

“Harry’s just our tour guide, Scorp.”

“But he was sad too,” Scorpius said.

Draco chuckled drily. “I don’t think so, son.”

“He seemed to be,” Scorpius replied, almost sternly. He clambered back onto the bed next to Draco and flopped down next to him unceremoniously. “I tried to ask him if he was sad.”

Draco tried not to get his hopes up. “And did he say yes?” 

“He didn’t say anything.” Scorpius rolled over to prop himself up on his elbows, resting his head in his hands. “He said sometimes things don’t turn out how you want them to, and that’s tough but okay.”

Draco told himself not to read into that, but he was already reading into it too much. Could this mean Harry wanted more? Or would he have liked to consider this sort of fuck-buddy type relationship, no strings attached? 

Before he could decide whether to entertain these thoughts or not, Draco’s phone began to ring - yet another piece of Muggle technology he took a good year or so to appreciate. He had eventually come to the conclusion that Muggles treated phones like broomsticks - a new model came out just as you bought the previous one.

Draco glanced at the caller ID. It read “Endau-Rompin National Park - Customer Care”. His heart nearly leapt into his mouth. Was Harry calling? Was he going to forgive Draco? Was he going to try and patch things up a little bit before too much time passed, like the goody-good Gryffindor he was?

“Are you gonna answer?” Scorpius asked.

Realizing he was still staring, dumbfounded, at the ID, Draco hurriedly swiped to take the call and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he asked, voice so shaky and low it sounded like a whisper.

But it was not the person Draco so desperately wanted to hear. Instead, it was a feminine voice with a strong Chinese accent - the exact kind of accent, Draco didn’t know, as he wasn’t too familiar with the different dialects - and it had a succinct touch to every word. “Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” it said. 

“Hui Ying,” Draco said slowly. 

“I’m flattered you recognized me,” she replied. “Sir, you appear to have left behind a very large item in one of our bathrooms. We haven’t been able to get it open at all but your tour guide said it likely belonged to you.”

What?

Then it dawned on Draco. His tent. He’d left his entire fucking Wizarding tent behind, and no Muggle would be able to get the zippers to the flat bag it was contained in open due to the enchantment he’d put on it.

“Are you, by any chance, still in the area, sir?”

“Yes, but…” Draco didn’t really want to go back there, not with all the recent memories, raw like a fresh wound. “I can pay for shipping to have it sent back to my home.”

“It’s a heavy, large item, sir, it might cost -”

“I don’t really care about the cost,” Draco huffed. He didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore - it was bringing back too many thoughts of Harry, of being pressed against him, of the anger flashing in his eyes behind his glasses. “You could also, just… throw it away.”

There was a very audible pause. “Sir…” Hui Ying trailed off and started again, this time with less of a pleasant, forced voice. “Alright, listen up. I don’t know what happened with you and Harry, but obviously both of you are mad about it.”

“Reasonable,” Draco replied stiffly. “We had some disagreements. It’s only natural to harbour some resentment after that, yes?”

Hui Ying’s entire vocal quality seemed to change, getting deeper and sterner while also become more flippant, somehow, at the same time. “So I take it you did not succeed in working through your old rivalry?”

“We were rivals for a reason.”

“It’s a pity,” Hui Ying said lightly. “Such a big pity.”

“I don’t believe it is,” Draco snapped, beginning to get more annoyed. “And to be quite frank, I barely know you. This is none of your business.”

Hui Ying didn’t seem bothered by his words. “Of course not, and I would never presume,” she said, a little too merrily. “It’s just that… well, I’m sure I shouldn’t mention this, because we don’t know each other…”

Already very irritated, Draco spat out, “What?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, truly,” Hui Ying said. Draco could almost hear the sweetness simmering in her voice like a veiled threat. “It’s none of my business, after all, as you said -”

“Hui Ying,” Draco snapped. “What is it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be too forward -”

For fuck’s sake. “ _ What? _ ”

Hui Ying’s voice now sounded like a smile. A sinister one, perhaps, but a smile nonetheless. “I thought, you know, since you are the only person Harry’s ever talked about from his home country, you two would get along  _ so  _ well.”

Draco inhaled sharply. Something heavy sank dramatically into the pit of his stomach. 

“He mentioned the pale, blond, beautiful boy who he would have loved to be closer with, if only that boy hadn’t been such a bully,” Hui Ying continued. “How he never reached out to patch things up with that boy… how that was one of his biggest regrets…”

Draco found that he was completely unable to speak. Hui Ying prattled on.

“Granted, he was very drunk,” she laughed. “The park was closed for a public holiday, and we both decided to camp out here anyway. We drank way too much whiskey, but he can’t hold his drink quite as well, and he’s a talker, that boy.”

“Father? Are you okay?” Scorpius was watching Draco’s face very closely. Draco realized his shocked expression combined with his complete silence might have worried his son and tried to give him a shaky smile.

“Mind you, he’d never told me about his previous life before,” Hui Ying was saying. “So it was all a bit confusing. It seems there was something quite unusual about the school you both went to - I don’t quite understand what he meant about all those things. But when he talked about you - oh, when he talked about you…”

Draco’s voice returned in a croak. “Are you… for real?”

“Oh I don’t lie,” Hui Ying replied smoothly. “Harry is hung up on you.”

The puzzle pieces were coming together now. The drink he’d had at the table with Hui Ying… everything she’d said…

“That’s why you knew he was LGBT,” Draco whispered. “That’s why you talked about -”

Hui Ying cut him off. “Oh, so sorry, sir, I have to get back to work!” she said. Her customer service voice had slid seamlessly back into place. “Do drop by to pick up your tent anytime you can. Have a wonderful day!”

The line went dead. 

Draco slowly lowered his phone. He couldn’t believe what he’d just found out. After all this time… after all these years…

Could Hui Ying be lying? Could she really go this far to trick him? It didn’t seem likely.

“Father?” Scorpius asked again. Thunder boomed outside. 

That’s when it hit Draco - he’d made a terrible mistake.

Draco practically dove into his knapsack, searching desperately for that one card he’d been handed yesterday that he’d accepted in a dizzy daze and stuffed into his bag absentmindedly. There was way too much stuff in here. If Draco had known from the get-go that his tour guide would be a wizard, he would have ditched the bulky backpack immediately for a tiny tote with an Undetectable Extension Charm. 

After spending several minutes unearthing random camping supplies he’d packed out of sheer parental worry and never actually used, Draco finally found it - right at the bottom, crumpled up and bent in all sorts of directions, was Ashikin’s card. Her number was neatly printed with some bold, slightly slanted font. 

Draco quickly pulled out his wallet to check if he had cash on hand and stopped momentarily when he saw the picture stored carefully in the embossed, transparent photo compartment within. Astoria, smiling up at him, nodding her head as if in agreement with what he was doing. Was it a sign? A coincidence? 

“What are you doing, Father?” Scorpius asked.

Draco looked at him and smiled. “Come along, son,” he said. “We’re going to pay Harry a visit.”

\--

Ashikin was only too happy to help Draco get back to the park as soon as possible. She chatted merrily with him the whole way, and although Draco was feeling much too antsy to respond properly, she definitely didn’t mind the open ears. 

When they arrived at Endau-Rompin National Park once again, thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the murky grey sky made it feel like they were in a black-and-white movie. The trees were dull, the large sign made from a hollowed tree trunk seemed lifeless, and the wind was almost chilly - an unusual phenomenon for Malaysian afternoons.

“What’s the rush, boss?” Ashikin asked as Draco hustled Scorpius out of the car and tossed a much higher than necessary amount of cash in her direction. 

“It’s just important,” Draco replied, and with that, he and Scorpius were off. Scorpius could barely keep up as Draco took his hand and ran with him towards the informational booth, and Draco had to force himself to slow down slightly as he went.

They burst through the little booth. The same receptionist was on duty, and Hui Ying was leaning against the wall and speaking to him, mid-laughter.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, sir,” Hui Ying smirked. “Are you here for your tent?”

Draco ignored the fact that her voice was dripping with something similar to sarcasm, but more know-it-all sounding, somehow. “Where’s Harry?” he asked.

“He’s on the trail, sir,” the receptionist replied coolly. He didn’t seem to know that anything was amiss. “He sadly just left. You can probably catch him if you run, but there’s an RM5 entry fee per person…”

Draco groaned. He’d used up the last of his cash on the taxi and was planning to just get a GrabCar back with his card…

“I’ll cover them,” Hui Ying said. She still had a half-smile on, but it didn’t seem quite as menacing now.

The receptionist shrugged. “Hey, do what you want to do, dude. I just need the money in the books.”

Hui Ying handed him the money out of her front pocket.

“Thank you,” Draco breathed. Without waiting for her reply, he grabbed Scorpius’ hand again and started leading him out. 

“Bye!” Scorpius called, waving over his shoulder. 

They jogged unsteadily out towards the forest trail.

“Are we gonna find Harry?” Scorpius asked.

Draco glanced down at him. “Yeah, Scorp, we are.”

The pair was definitely out of breath by the time they’d run just a few meters into the mass of forest and trees. Maybe they should actually make a habit of going for a little exercise every now and then…

A warm drop of water struck Draco on the tip of his nose. A moment later, Scorpius squeaked in surprise, likely as he, too, was attacked by some moisture. Then, within the count of ten, the dark sky above began to weep into a full drizzle.

“Just what we needed,” Draco muttered. “Scorp, maybe I should send you back to the hut -”

Scorpius gasped and pointed ahead. “Father, look!”

Draco glanced up. A short distance away from them on the trail was the steadily retreating back of a man, walking briskly ahead. From the gait, the bagginess of the shirt, the odd fit of the cargo pants - it had to be Harry. 

“Harry!” Draco shouted. “Harry!”

Harry stopped in his tracks. When he turned to face Draco, it was in slow motion. “You,” he said. Draco expected to hear more venom in his voice, but it was quiet. Tired. Almost… defeated.

“Harry, I…”

“If you want your tent, it’s back at the information hut,” Harry said. 

Something was terribly wrong. Harry’s shoulders were slumped, his shirt muddy and dirty even as it was peppered by rain, and a pair of worrying dark circles decorated his green eyes, which now seemed empty and drained of all their Gryffindor-ish spirit.

“I don’t care about the sodding tent,” Draco gasped. He and Scorpius had just about managed to catch up with him, and now, they were standing face-to-face once more. Scorpius looked like he wanted to say something, but he was too busy catching his breath. “I’m here for you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. It was such a painfully fluid movement that Draco couldn’t believe he’d wasted so much time in denial of the complete beauty of this man. 

“For me.” Harry sounded completely disbelieving.

“Yes, you git, for you,” Draco snapped.

“Bad language!” Scorpius scolded.

Harry looked fondly at the small pale boy, and Draco realized that Harry’s incredible treatment of Scorpius was just one of the many reasons he’d fallen head over heels for him so quickly.

“Harry, I made a mistake,” Draco said. 

“Sounds like something you should be familiar with,” Harry shot back, not missing a beat.

Only with Harry were insults ever a good sign. “It is, and this might be my worst one,” Draco said. “I let my fear and insecurities get the better of me, and it stopped me from seeing what I really want, and what I really want is you.”

A flush rose to Harry’s tanned cheeks, some of the light coming back into his eyes, and he adjusted his glasses in a nervous manner. “Draco, I… I don’t know.”

“If you want nothing to do with me any more, just say the word, and I will leave and you will never have to see me again,” Draco said earnestly. “I know I hurt you. I know what I’ve done is inexcusable. And if that one horrible, insurmountable mistake has cost me the first person I’ve truly felt this way about in years, please know that I did it out of fear and stupidity - not because I dislike you or didn’t feel the same for you. And just one word from you will silence me forever on this matter.”

Draco waited, fists clenching in impatient anxiety and unbearable apprehension, rain splashing unceremoniously over his hair and clothes, as Harry contemplated his words. It felt like an eternity, and although he swore he’d stay silent till Harry said something, he could no longer take it

“Harry, please, I -”

Harry stepped forward and closed the space between them, his hands coming up to gently cradle Draco’s face as their lips met in a rush of euphoria. Draco’s stomach flopped uselessly, his knees unreliable, as he savoured the gentle warmth of Harry against his rain-damp skin, feeling his touch, relishing in the taste of him that he’d almost lost forever… 

“Eww!” Scorpius giggled, and Draco and Harry broke apart to smile at him. 

“You’re ruining the moment, Scorp,” Draco laughed.

“Well, I don’t know,” Harry grinned. “He is your son, after all, and he knows you best. Maybe he’s just warning me…”

Before Draco could come up with anything witty to say in reply, a loud roar pierced through the air. Harry froze in place, and together, they turned in the direction of the earsplitting noise. 

Standing there barely shrouded by trees, strong in all its magnificent glory, was a large, golden tiger. Its eyes were sharp and intelligent, fixed on them in an angry, accusing stare, muscles visibly rippling beneath its fur as it stalked towards them with terrifying power.

Scorpius was starting to say something, vibrating with excitement, but Draco wrapped his arms around him and forced him backwards. “Stay behind me,” Draco hissed. He whispered, then, to Harry. “I thought we had a better chance of running into the Sultan than a tiger.”

Harry’s own whisper was shaky. “We do. It’s our lucky day. You should buy a lottery ticket.”

“What do we do?” Draco snapped.

“Stand tall,” Harry replied. “Back away very, very slowly.”

They began to walk backwards in the most gradual manner possible, but the tiger didn’t seem to be very easily persuaded. Instead, it began to move more certainly towards them, snarling, exposing large, yellowing teeth.

“Shit,” Harry said. “They’re not usually like this -”

“Enough, Busu!”

From behind the tiger, a man with long greying hair and dressed in full traditional Jakun garb appeared, striding confidently over to where they were standing, completely oblivious to the fearsome tiger.

“What the -”

“Enough, Busu,” the man repeated. His English was heavily accented but clear. Draco only just recognized him from their lunch at Kampung Peta - he was one of the higher-ranking men in the tribe who told them legends from the forest. “You are scaring these men.”

The tiger sat back on its haunches, growled once, and then slowly began to change in form. Before Draco’s very eyes, the large wildcat shrank down, strong limbs morphing into thinner ones, fur receding backwards everywhere except on the head, where it instead began to change colour, four-legged posture slowly shifting into a bipedal figure. Before too long, Draco was looking at the stern-faced, angry man who had so clearly disapproved of his and Scorpius’ presence and refused to hike with them - stark naked.

“Were the dramatics really needed, son?” the elder tribe member asked, clapping Busu on the shoulder and handing him a sarong.

“They were fun,” Busu replied.

“You can speak English?” Harry asked, flabbergasted. “All these years, and -”

“Is that  _ really  _ what you’ve chosen to focus on?” Draco half-shouted. “This man is… is…”

Busu’s father smiled at him, clearly amused. “Is what,  _ adik _ ?”

“An Animagus!” Draco exclaimed.

“What’s an Animagus?” Scorpius asked.

An awkward silence followed, punctured only by the tapping of the drizzling rain on the leaves overhead. Draco, Harry and Busu were glaring at each other accusingly, Busu’s father was smiling and looking up at the sky, and Scorpius was growing more impatient every second his question went unanswered.

“I said -” Scorpius started.

“An Animagus,” Draco breathed, “is a wizard or witch who can transform into an animal.”

“A wizard!” Scorpius exclaimed. He looked at Busu with renewed awe in his eyes. “Oh, sir, are you a wizard?”

Busu’s stoic expression did not waver, so his father stepped forward instead. 

“Yes,  _ adik _ ,” he said. “We are wizards, and both of us, Animagi.”

“Father, I thought you said there might not be any wizards here!” Scorpius said, looking up at Draco with an almost accusing expression.

“I thought there might not be.” Draco turned to Harry. “Did you know this?”

Harry shook his head. “Not in the slightest.” He cleared his throat and began to address Busu’s father. “Sir, I -”

“Please, call me Cheh,” the man replied. He looked fondly at his incredibly emotionless son. “Busu has a gift for sensing other wizards and witches. He knew you, Harry, were a wizard as soon as you came here. He could sense it.”

“But…” Harry seemed very confounded, and Draco hoped he himself would one day be able to look that attractive with a dumb look on his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We thought it was a coincidence,” Cheh explained. “And we didn’t want to disturb the balance of our home. We are the only two Wizards there, and we live in secrecy about our abilities.”

“But you’re showing us now!” Harry protested. “Doesn’t this mess up the balance?”

“Busu was concerned when your two guests came to our village,” Cheh said. Draco didn’t think ‘concerned’ was the right word - maybe enraged? “He expressed worries to me that the magic folk were coming to take over, and convert our country to Western ways of magic. We decided to confront you to see if we could guess your true intentions, and I do think your actions have proven your innocence.”

This was insane. “So there  _ is  _ a community of wizards here?” Draco asked. “Where?”

Cheh shrugged. “We are a community, maybe, but we do not meet often. Most of us do not go to the country’s small school of witchcraft and wizardry, instead learning all we need from our parents. Some of us work in law enforcement to stop those with magic that choose to use it for crime, and some publically use their magic, but most of us choose to lay low.”

“Publically use magic?” Draco spluttered. “But that’s -”

“Very safe, in a country so spiritual,” Cheh smiled. “Perhaps you have heard of these people. They are called in to cast away ghosts, to predict the future, to cleanse the lands…”

Draco had read news stories about these supposedly powerful individuals performing rituals for many purposes all over the country. At the time, he thought it was all hogwash, but now that he knew these were the wizards and witches he’d sought out, he realized it made sense. How else could he explain the fact that most of these stories miraculously proved the power of the people involved?

“There is a school, you said,” Draco began again. “A school for folk like us…”

“Of course,” Cheh replied. “Your son is nearing the right age for that, isn’t he? If he wants to go to school, you will both have to register as official magic users in this country. If you go to a National Registration Department Office and press the buttons A, B, D, then B again on the ticket number machine, you will find your way -”

Cheh was cut off as the drizzle dramatically increased in intensity and it began to pour, hard. Scorpius squeaked, and Busu pulled out a crudely-sharpened stick out from a hidden pocket inside his sarong and waved it once, twice, three times. Draco nearly jumped in shock as a shield wrapped around his body, covering him from any rainfall. He looked down to see that Scorpius had been protected, too. Draco had never seen magic executed this way - a spell that formed a moving, conforming raincoat. Maybe this Busu guy wasn’t so bad after all.

“It is time for us to return to our village,” Cheh said. “Come talk to me privately any time, Harry, if you have questions - maybe you can pass what you learn on to your friend here.”

With those final words, Cheh and Busu turned away and simultaneously began to change in size as their bodies shifted. Busu reappeared as a tiger, and Cheh as a tiny mouse-deer, such as commonly spoken of in Malaysian fables - and with that, the two made their way through the trees and vanished.

Draco, Scorpius, and Harry were silent for many moments, and then they burst into peals of laughter. When they finally stopped to catch their breath, Harry’s expression was one Draco could only describe as of pure joy - an expression he wanted to help Harry recreate for a long time to come.

“Well, it’s been quite a week, hasn’t it?” Harry said.

“That may just be the understatement of the century,” Draco chuckled.

There was another short pause, during which Scorpius looked up at them with eagerly watchful eyes. The rain continued to pelt down at them, bouncing harmlessly off all of their raincoat shields. Maybe if Draco was able to convince Busu to be his friend, he’d get to learn this trick.

“Where do you think we go from here?” Harry said at last.

Draco smiled. It was a genuine one, and it felt almost unnatural on his lips, as though it had forgotten how to fit there without Scorpius being involved. “Why don’t we just see where the path takes us?”

For a moment, Draco thought Harry might spring to his senses and refuse, but, as raindrops ricocheted off his own shield, he reached out to take Draco’s hand. Both shields melded together somehow, so they could touch each other’s skin beneath their now singular magical raincoat.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking down at Scorpius and reaching over to pat his head, joining the three of them inside the charm. “Yeah, I can work with that.”

THE END


	8. Glossary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I compiled a list of all the Bahasa Melayu words and Malaysian colloquialisms in this fic for easy viewing! Feel free to ask should you have any questions.

**Glossary**

**Adik** \- Word meaning “little sibling”, often used by older individuals to speak to those younger than them, even when not related. 

**Anak** \- Word meaning “child”.

**Batik** \- A form of pattern created by wax-resist dyeing.

**Boleh -** Word meaning “can”.

**Boss** \- A term often used between waiters and customers at hawker stalls. The word is also used commonly to call friends or speak to customers and service providers in general in informal situations.

**Dah -** Short form of “sudah”, meaning “already”. Malaysians often say “dah” twice in the same sentence, before and after a verb.

**Haram** \- An Arabic word meaning “forbidden”. When used by Malaysians, it usually means something that is forbidden by the Islam religion.

**Hari** \- Word meaning “day”. 

**Je** \- Short form of “sahaja”, meaning “just” or “only”. Malaysians often use the English word “just” and the Malay abbreviation “je” in the same sentence colloquially, example: “Just eating rice je!”

**Ke** -Short form of “kah”. “Kah” is usually used when asking a question and is the suffix that follows the Malay words for “what”, “where”, “when”, “why”, etc. Colloquially, “ke” is used randomly to indicate that a sentence is a question. 

**Lah** \- The most classic of Malaysian colloquial slang. There’s no real meaning for this word, and it’s used as a tag at the end of any sentence to add a “flavour” of sorts to it. Different inflexions or intonations of the voice can completely change the meaning of this word, and it’s so fascinating that an academic paper has been written on it. You can check it out here:  [ https://www.jstor.org/stable/3623004 ](https://www.jstor.org/stable/3623004)

**Lemang** \- Rice cooked over an open fire in the hollow stems of bamboo.

**Macha** \- Tamil word that literally translates to “brother-in-law” but is used as a friendly slang term for “brother” or “bro”. Although commonly used by Indians, it is also used by virtually all races in Malaysia as a term of endearment towards friends, especially when those friends are of Indian ethnicity.

**Mamak stalls** \- Open-air eateries that serve a particular kind of Indian-Muslim cuisine.

**Mat Salleh -** A term used for Caucasians. The origin of this term is unknown, but some say it comes from the word “mad sailor”. Please note that this is not a slur of any kind.

**Mula** \- Word meaning “start”.

**Nasi lemak** \- Literally translates to “fat rice”. This traditional Malay dish is often served for breakfast and is made of rice cooked in coconut milk and pandan leaf. The rice is usually accompanied by boiled egg, fried anchovies, fried peanuts, cucumber, and everyone’s favourite  _ sambal  _ \- a kind of paste made from chillies that is Malaysia’s version of hot sauce. Sometimes, it may be served with chicken, too, for a more filling meal.

**Ni** \- Short form of “ini”, meaning “this”. 

**Roti kosong** \- Literally translating to “empty bread”, roti kosong is more correctly known as  _ roti canai _ . It is an Indian-influenced variety of flat bread served with a variety of curries. Specifically,  _ roti kosong  _ means that this will be served with only the curries and not cooked with anything inside the bread. (As an example,  _ roti telur  _ translates to “egg bread” and is  _ roti canai  _ cooked with egg inside it, and then served with the same curries.)

**Teh tarik** \- Literally translates to “pulled tea”. It is made from black tea and condensed milk and earns its name from these two ingredients being mixed by pouring them in long stretches from one cup to another - “pulling” the tea together. There’s a lot of showmanship involved in making  _ teh tarik  _ in some places, and there are even  _ teh tarik _ competitions where brewers show off their ability to “pull” the drink.

**Tak** \- Short form of “tidak”, meaning “no” or “not”. 

**Tudung** \- A Malaysian variety of the hijab.

**Wah** \- Word meaning “wow”.

**Yang -** Word meaning “the”, “that”, or “which”.

 

_ Notes on colloquialism: _

The Malaysian community is well-known for being a cultural melting pot, and as a result, many Malaysians speak what we call  _ bahasa rojak _ , or “rojak language”. Rojak refers to a dish made from mixed fruits, hence creating the unofficial meaning for  _ bahasa rojak:  _ mixed language. This mixed language can take many forms and often mixes elements of English, Bahasa Melayu, Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, Tamil, and Hindi all in one.

For foreigners who hear bahasa rojak being spoken - especially when most of the spoken words are English - it can sound like “broken” English and denote a lack of intelligence or a weak grasp of the English language. It’s important to note that this is far from the case. Our colloquial English uses grammar rules from other languages, and many who use this colloquial English are capable of speaking “proper” English fluently. Many - myself included - slip in and out of “proper” English and rojak English, depending on who we’re speaking to, and this is what Hui Ying does in this story. 


End file.
